


The Spectator

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU: Different First Meeting, Alternative Universe: College/university, Confusion, Dating, Explicit Sexual Content, John Plays Matchmaker, Kissing, M/M, Party, Rugby, Sherlock Has A Crush, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has developed his unexplained interest in John Watson. To find out more, Sherlock starts hanging out at rugby practice. This piques John's own curiosity, and the only explanation he can come up with is the wrong one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rugby Practice

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments -- they mean so much.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John was just emptying his water bottle when he noticed the boy standing over by the gate, watching them practising. He was in John's chemistry class -- they had been partnered up a couple times -- and lately he had been hanging around the pitch a lot more often. John looked around and wondered who was drawing him here everyday. He caught Victor pulling his shirt off and wiping his brow with it before tossing it aside. Hmm. That would do it. John walked over to the gate, waving as he approached. "Hello," he said. "Do you want to come in -- like to the seats, I mean? They don't mind an audience." 

Sherlock didn't know how he had ended up at the playing fields again. It was the third time this week. He tried to stay a bit out of the way, but he heard a voice speaking to him. He looked up and it was him. John Watson. John Watson was speaking to Sherlock and Sherlock needed to say something back, but he hadn't planned that step yet. So he sputtered out a few syllables and then said, "Um, okay." He walked through the gate and moved over to the seats, sitting down and then getting back up, walking up a few rows and sitting down again.

John smiled up at him and went to join the team again as they started getting ready for another play.

"Who's that?" Greg asked.

"Sherlock . . . from chemistry."

"Oh," Greg said, squinting over at him. "That's right. What's he doing here?"

John shrugged. "I think he likes someone on the team. I'm going to find out."

"Why?" Greg asked as they got into position.

"I can help him, maybe," John grinned and took off as the play started, dodging two players and then getting tackled spectacularly.

Sherlock watched them all playing. He watched the way John moved, the way he spoke and laughed with the others on the field. He just seemed like a normal guy -- why did Sherlock find him so intriguing? He really wasn't sure. But he did. He found him incredibly intriguing. He worried he had already given away too much so he took out his phone and pretended to text for a few moments. But he couldn't bring himself to leave -- he wanted to stay, he wanted to watch John.

When they took another break, John jogged over to the seats and climbed to sit up near Sherlock. "Having fun?" he asked, smiling over at him. He wished he had another bottle of water. "We're going out for food after, everyone on the team, I mean," he added. "Want to come along?"

Sherlock thought his brain might explode. It was like John was speaking a foreign language and Sherlock struggled to make sense of the words. He couldn't believe how stupid he felt. Sherlock Holmes rarely felt stupid. But at this moment, no other word could better describe him. He mumbled yes, staring onto the field because he couldn't face looking at John. "Where? When? What do I do?" he managed to say and then regretted that the words made him sound as stupid as he felt.

John looked out to the field along with Sherlock, and he wondered who Sherlock was looking at, who he was thinking about. "As soon as practice is over. We're going to run one more play and then go wash up. As for where I don't know yet. And you don't have to do anything but have fun," he said. "Sound good?" He heard the whistle and stood to go back down again, walking down backwards to wait for his answer.  

"Yeah, okay," Sherlock said. He watched John walk back down. He was definitely handsome and so nice and . . . just normal. Sherlock knew John could never like him like he liked John. He was too weird, too intense, too . . . different. But John had spoken to him, invited him to wherever it was he said they were going -- Sherlock realised he'd hardly paid attention to the words John had said. Why was John doing this? Sherlock hoped it wasn't a joke, that John wasn't planning on making a fool of him because Sherlock already felt foolish enough about how he felt. He moved a few benches down and waited to see what would happen next.

John had control of the ball for a good bit, avoided getting tackled again, passed it, and watched Greg score. He cheered happily and grinned at Sherlock again. The coach shouted to them to go to the showers and John jogged over to Sherlock. "We won't be long. If you wait by the front doors, I'll come get you before we go."

Sherlock smiled as John played and smiled even wider when John came over. "Okay," he said. Is that the only word he's going to be able to say in front of John? He stood up too quickly and then sat down again for a moment as John ran off. Then he stood back up again and walked to the building and waited for John. He stared at his feet, trying to avoid meeting the eyes of the few other people around the area.

John took a quick shower and hoped Sherlock was still waiting for him. He said he would be but John knew he was a bit unusual. Sherlock skipped class a lot and seemed to have a lot going on in his spare time so any second, he might decide dinner with a bunch of athletes wasn't worth his time. When he got dressed he fussed his hair a bit and hurried out to the front doors, grinning when he saw Sherlock waiting. "Thanks for waiting . . . no one wants to go to dinner all sweaty," he said. "We're just going to meet everyone there." He started walking, sticking close to Sherlock. 

All of a sudden Sherlock felt a bit overwhelmed by the thought of other people -- he could barely speak normally in front of John, how was he going to handle other people being around? Sherlock wasn't interested in other people. In fact, he wasn't interested in any other person in the world. Except John and he still wasn't sure why. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, okay," he said, and then felt his cheeks redden a bit. "I mean, whatever works," he said, trying to gain a little control over himself.

John looked over at him. "It's not the whole team . . . I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I suppose I just made some assumptions."

"Whatever you want," Sherlock said. Honestly -- he'd do whatever John wanted, just to spend more time with him. "Whatever works," he said again.

John nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "So. You've been coming to our practices a lot . . ." he looked over and smiled at Sherlock. 

"I'm sorry," Sherlock mumbled, looking down.

"What?" John asked alarmed. "No! Don't be sorry," he said quickly. "It's cool. I just wondered why," he said. "Sherlock, really, it's cool that you come."

Sherlock glanced over at John. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. "I don't want . . . I mean, if you think it's weird, I can stop."

"No!" John pulled his hand out and ran it through his hair nervously. "No, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant at all." He sighed and looked down, cursing his stupid mouth.

"Look, I'm sorry," Sherlock mumbled. "I'm just . . . I don't know. I guess I've just become interested in rugby recently." God, he felt so stupid.

"Please stop apologising," John said. "I just wanted to learn more about you."

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

John shrugged. "I just wanted to," he said.

"What do you want to know?" Sherlock asked.

John smiled. "Why you like rugby all of a sudden."

"Well," Sherlock said. He took a deep breath. "I suppose I'm interested in rugby players."

John smiled a little wider, hoping he didn't look as smug as he felt. "Which one? I can help if you want."

Sherlock looked down at the ground. "Well . . ." he said, but he couldn't make the right words come out. "Well, how do you think you can help?"

"I can talk to whoever it is. Maybe try and set up a date or something," he said. "Would you want to do that? I don't want to pressure you."

Sherlock looked over. Was John teasing? He looked closely at John's face. No, John wasn't teasing. That wasn't it all. John didn't know. John thought Sherlock was interested in someone else. John didn't know he was the one.

Sherlock tried to think quickly. Obviously, John wasn't interested in Sherlock himself -- why would he? Sherlock knew he should have known that; probably deep down he had known that. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he mumbled, slowing down a bit.

John stopped walking as well and bit his lip. "I'm sorry if I came on too strong. You don't have to tell me. I'll never say anything about it again. I just got over excited -- I'm just good at matchmaking and I wanted to help, but forget I said anything."

Now Sherlock panicked. If he ended the conversation, he'd probably never speak to John again and he'd never figure out why he fancied him so much. "Um," Sherlock said. "Well . . . are you saying there's someone on your team who is gay?"

John nodded. "A couple, yeah." Victor was gay. So was Phil but he isn't really a looker. And of course John himself was bisexual.

Sherlock wondered if John was including himself in that list, but he was too afraid to turn his head to look at him. "Do you think . . . well, I'm a bit different, aren't I? Do you think someone on your team would be interested in someone like me?" he asked.

"Yes!" John said, getting excited again. He touched Sherlock's arm and smiled. "You're smart and clever and handsome -- who wouldn't be interested in those thing?"

Sherlock felt a little electricity move through him when John touched him. "Are you thinking of anyone in particularly . . . you know, who might be interested in me?"

"Maybe. I mean, a few of the guys have noticed you coming around and they don't mind. Who do you like?"

"I --" Sherlock said. "Well, do you think there's someone who would make a good match for me?"

"Yeah, I'm sure we can work something out. I feel like you're avoiding my question," he smiled.

"I just . . . this is the first time I've ever done anything like this . . ." Sherlock said. "It's just . . . embarrassing, I guess."

"Well, I'm the only one that'll know and I'll run everything by you. I just need to know who to work on, you know?"

"I don't know his name," Sherlock said finally. "Sorry . . . that sounds bad, probably, but . . . he's about your height, similar colour hair . . . he looks a bit like you, I guess." He worried he'd given too much away.

John grinned. "I knew it! That's who everyone likes -- the girls go crazy for him but they don't know he's gay." John pointed to the restaurant they were all meeting at. "When we go in I'll make sure you have a seat next to him, okay?" 

Sherlock swallowed hard. "Don't make it too obvious," he said. "Can't I sit by you?"

"I'll stay by you -- you can be in between us. Or we can sit in front of him?" John asked. "I just want you to be comfortable."

"Yeah, just stay by me," Sherlock said. God, this was complicated -- Sherlock worried he should just end it, but that meant the end of having an excuse to talk to John. "Why do you want to do this, John?"

John shrugged. "It's fun," he said. "I don't really have much luck myself . . . I mean, I've gone on dates but nothing really works out. I seem to be better at setting people up. Greg has been with Molly for almost a year now and that was my doing," he smiled proudly. "It's easier seeing it in others, I guess." He paused in front of the door and looked over at him. "I'm weird, right? I hope you don't regret hanging out with me."

"I don't," Sherlock said. "I mean, I appreciate your being nice to me." He glanced over. "I kind of wish we were just going to get something to eat together." He swallowed hard again. "I mean, I just don't have any experience with this, but it's easy to talk to you." He wished John could read between the lines.

"Well, they are just like me," John smiled. He patted Sherlock's arm and led the way in to where everyone was sitting. 

"Finally, Watson! We're starving," Anderson said loudly. 

"If you wanted me here faster, one of you could have given me a ride. Scoot over," he said to Victor. 

"Go to the other side," Victor said, pointing. 

"No. I need the end because I'm left handed, remember?" He hit Victor with his left arm and grinned. When he moved John pulled Sherlock closer, had him slide in first and then John took the end. "This is my friend, Sherlock." Everyone said hello and Victor even shook his hand. 

"Hello," Sherlock said a little awkwardly. He probably would have been a lot more awkward if he hadn't been so distracted by the fact that John had pushed in quite closely to him. He enjoyed the feeling very much.

They all ordered their food and talked about the upcoming match. John was pleased when Victor suggested that Sherlock come watch. John nudged him lightly under the guise of shifting in his seat. Things seemed to be going pretty well, and he hoped Sherlock wasn't feeling uncomfortable. 

Sherlock tried hard to pay attention to what this Victor was saying. He looked him over -- he did look a little like John in terms of size and colouring. Sherlock wondered if it'd be possible to just transfer what he felt for John onto a new person, this person, since it seemed so important to John that Sherlock like Victor. He tried really staring at Victor, even smiling a few times. However, even though Sherlock really didn't understand feelings like other people did, he was pretty sure he wasn't going to just stop liking John and start liking Victor, because the entire time he was really, really trying, all he could focus on was the feeling that stayed in his body after John had nudged him. It was warm and intense, and it was like he had no other purpose in life except to sit there, waiting for John to nudge him again.

John kept glancing over and seeing Sherlock staring at Victor and talking with him. This was going so well. Anderson was having a party this weekend, and he wondered if he could set it up somehow so that Victor would ask Sherlock to go. But it needed to happen just right and at the moment no one was talking about the party so he didn't want to bringing it up out of nowhere and make things weird. John noticed that Sherlock had a handsome face with those bright eyes and nice dark hair, but he shook the thought away. "You'll come to practice tomorrow?" he asked.

Victor looked over. "You can watch me tackle Watson again," he grinned. 

"Yeah right -- not again, Trevor," John said. 

There were so many voices talking and Sherlock found it hard to follow while still looking lovingly at Victor while at the same time still enjoying every moment sitting so closely next to John. "Yes, yes, I will," he finally said, not entirely sure what he just agreed to. He hoped that saying yes might mean John would touch him again.

John smiled at Sherlock. "Great!" 

"If you're coming to the practice you might at well come to the party on Saturday," Victor said. "That'll be a lot more fun than practice." John couldn't believe it -- that had worked out so perfectly. He looked at Sherlock excitedly and nudged his arm again. 

Sherlock looked over at John when he touched his arm. "Are you going?" he asked.

"Yeah," John nodded. "So is Victor and everyone," he added quietly. 

"All right, I'll come," Sherlock said, still looking at John. Then he looked over at Victor and said, "Thanks for inviting me." He tried to smile, but all he wanted to do was look over at John again.

"Yeah, sure thing," Victor smiled.

John was so pleased with himself for how this was working out. Slowly everyone started getting ready to leave, and John stood so the people sitting on his side could get out. 

"Need a ride, Watson?" Anderson asked.

John looked over at Sherlock. "Do you want a ride home? I'll walk with you if you prefer," he said. 

"I'll just walk," Sherlock said. "We can walk together." He hoped John would.

"See you guys later," John called. He started walking with Sherlock, looking over at him. "How do you feel? Was that okay?" 

"Yeah, thanks for taking me," Sherlock said. "Did you have fun?"

John nodded. "Yeah I did," he smiled. "He invited you to the party!" John grabbed his arm and shook it excitedly. 

Sherlock felt his face flush at John's touch. This was going to be difficult, and he was so bad at difficult interactions. Well, at all interactions, but definitely difficult ones. But it felt like the only way he could stay hanging out with John is if John thought Sherlock fancied Victor. He didn't. He fancied John, but if he told him that, it would ruin everything. John wanted Sherlock to be with Victor. He tried to think, closing his eyes for a second. And then an idea came to him.

"Look," he said, stopping and turning to John. "As you've probably guessed, I've got no experience with this kind of thing. Do you think maybe you could . . . help me, I don't know, like give me lessons or something so I know how to act and how to . . . make someone like me? If it's too weird, just forget it, but I'm just kind of lost with all this."

"It's not weird! I was going to suggest we exchange numbers anyways so I can help," John said. "I can be your inside man -- pass along information so that you can flirt with him more easily."  
  
Sherlock pulled out his phone and they exchanged numbers. "Do you want to get together tomorrow?" Sherlock asked. It was the closest he'd ever come to asking someone on a date. Yet the "date" was so John could show him how to win over some guy Sherlock didn't even know. It was crazy, but Sherlock felt he had no other option. He just wanted to spend time with John.

"Yeah," John smiled. Sherlock's insecurity was kind of cute. For a moment John thought maybe he could win over Sherlock and make him change his mind about Victor and like him instead. But then his brain reminded him, _You already promised to help him -- don't get weird._ So John said, "We can go get dinner after practice -- just me and you -- and we can talk about what you're unsure of." 

"All right," Sherlock said, smiling. "That sounds good." He looked up and started walking again. When he got near his place, he said, "Well, this is me. Thanks for coming over and talking to me and thanks for inviting me out and . . . just thanks for everything."

John smiled wider. "No problem. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He patted Sherlock's arm again and suddenly realised that he had done this quite a bit tonight, and he hoped Sherlock didn't mind. He turned and headed for his own place, his mind wandering to the next day already and what they would talk about at dinner. _Maybe he needs to practice kissing._ John felt his cheeks burn and he shook his head even though no one was around to see. Wishing to sway Sherlock's affection was one thing but that was too much. He needed to remain objective.  

Sherlock went inside and got on his computer. He had already found out everything he could about John Watson -- had even found himself viewing his Facebook photos over and over. He was embarrassed by that fact but not enough to stop doing it. This time he Googled Victor Trevor. It was all boring. Nothing bad but nothing interesting. Nothing as interesting as John Watson.

Sherlock moved over to the bed and lay down. He thought about the day and about the fact that he kind of had a date with John tomorrow. This morning before he headed for the rugby fields, he had wanted nothing more than to be able to talk to John. Now he had and he still liked him and they'd be spending time together tomorrow. That felt good but it didn't feel as good as he'd hoped because it was all based on a lie. He fell asleep thinking about that.


	2. Date Practice

John woke up the next morning thinking about the date. He knew he shouldn't call it that, but it was easier. He must have been dreaming about it but try as he might he couldn't remember his dream at all. He sent Sherlock a good morning message before he could think too much about whether he should and then took extra care with his outfit. At school he was excited about going to chemistry, sitting at the table Sherlock always sat it so when he came in they could sit together. 

The next morning Sherlock looked forward to class and seeing John. He felt even better about it when he received the text from John. When he went into class, he saw John at his usual table so he tried to act normal and took his usual seat. "Hey," he said as casually as he could, though he was thinking about what he could say to make John touch his arm again.

"Hello," John said. "I hope I'm not crowding you. I just thought now that we're properly friends, I could sit with you." 

"No, it's good, I mean, it's okay," Sherlock stammered. He got out his notebook. "Do you like this class?"

John wrinkled his nose lightly. "It's not my favourite, but I know I need it," he said. "I know you do -- I think you've mentioned that before." 

"Did I?" Sherlock said. "Yeah, I do like it. It's practically the only class I can tolerate actually." He swallowed awkwardly. It probably wasn't the greatest strategy to win John over -- saying the only thing he liked was something John didn't. So he said, "Where do you want to get dinner tonight? Or do you want to come to mine and we can order something?"

"Oh," John said, not having thought about that option. "We can do that -- we can pick it up on the way. We will probably be able to talk more comfortably at yours anyways now that I think about it."

Sherlock felt good about that. He tried to think about his place, if there was anything there he could show John that might interest him. "So, do you go out a lot? Is that why you know all this stuff, I mean, about how to act and all?" he asked quietly.

"I've been on a few dates," he said vaguely. "Like I said, it's easier helping others."

"I feel bad you're helping me," Sherlock said. "Maybe I could help you with something." He really had no idea what he could offer. "Is there someone in here you like? Maybe I could talk to them -- like you said, it's easier when it's not you." He swallowed. "Is there a girl you like? A guy?"

John looked over at him and smiled softly, shaking his head. "Don't feel bad -- I want to help," he said. "Don't worry about me."

"I don't know why you aren't together with someone," Sherlock said. "You're . . . nice."

John flushed lightly and licked his lips. "Not the right time, I guess. Thanks, though, Sherlock."

"All right," Sherlock said, not sure what else to say. Just then the professor started speaking, so he turned to focus on that. About half way through the class, he glanced at John who seemed bored. He reached over and wrote "Wake up" on John's notebook. He smiled.

John smiled and sat up a bit, drawing a smiley face with closed eyes and little Z's over its head. _Me in five minutes_ he wrote next to it. 

Sherlock smiled. He wished he could just reach over and touch John -- they were sitting right next to each other, what would be wrong with them just holding hands in class? Other couples did it.

Then he remembered: they weren't a couple. Sherlock was supposedly in love with Victor and John was going to help them get together. His stomach felt funny. He tried to turn his attention back to the class. When it was over, he turned back to John and said, "Do you want to just walk back to mine now or do you want to come over later or what?"

"I have practice first, remember?" John smiled. "Did you still want to come?"

"Um," Sherlock thought about it. He felt like he should because John probably expected him to want to see Victor. But at the same time, Sherlock was starting to feel a bit nervous about John's coming over and maybe he should go straight home to prepare -- even though he had no idea precisely what that meant. "Yeah, sorry, I forgot. I'll come but I might leave early -- if you want you can just head over to mine when you've finished. Unless you want to go home first. Whatever," he said, trying to sound casual.

"Okay, yeah," John said. "Whenever you want. Want to walk with me?"

"Yeah," Sherlock said, getting up. As they walked, Sherlock said, "Will you be honest with me -- is it weird that I was showing up to watch you practise? I mean, do you think that's a bit . . . stalker-like?"

"No. I don't want you to take this the wrong way but a lot of girls show up to watch, hoping the boys will notice them." John smiled and nudged his arm. "That's what you did."

"Hmmm," Sherlock said. "I guess I needn't have worried if I'm just like everyone else then." He looked forward.

"But you have something they don't," John grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He flushed lightly and shrugged to brush it off and try to make it more casual 

"What's that then?" Sherlock asked. "Or are you just referring to the fact that I can go into the men's changing rooms without any hassle?"

"Yeah, you're a boy and he's gay so that's the advantage," he said. He smiled and paused at the locker room. "I have to change so I'll see you on the field."

"All right," Sherlock said. He walked over to the seats and sat down. So girls came to watch Victor . . . why? He didn't seem all that interesting to Sherlock; should he try harder to get to know him? He looked around, waiting for them to come out. When they did, he tried to focus on Victor, but found himself still watching John.

John was about to wave when he saw Victor wave instead. Oh. He only smiled over at Sherlock and got ready to start the play.

After a while, Sherlock started thinking about John coming over later and decided to head home to get ready. He waited until John glanced up and then he nodded a bit and got up to leave. He walked home and looked around his room. He tried tidying up a bit and put away some of the things that he was afraid John would think were too boring or weird. He took a shower and then sat down with his chemistry homework to distract him until John arrived.

"Where did your friend go?" Victor asked.

"Oh, he had to go home early," John said. He didn't want to tell Victor they were going to be hanging out afterwards. He realised he should probably talk Sherlock up now -- it was a good opportunity -- but for some reason he didn't.

"Shame," Victor said, wandering off again. John watched him leave and sighed heavily. When practice was over, he declined rides from his teammates and, after a long shower, he headed over to Sherlock's.

Sherlock had moved from his bed to his window about ten thousand times when he finally spotted John coming down the street. He turned on the kettle and then the radio and spread his chemistry stuff out a bit so it would look like he'd been studying instead of worrying about the date which wasn't really a date. When he heard John's knock, he opened the door and said, "Hey," as casually as he could before leading John in.

"Hello," he smiled, stepping inside. "I showered before I came over so don't worry."

"Oh, okay," Sherlock said. He poured them each a cup of tea. "So could you tell me what this party is going to be like? Who will be there? Will there be some kind of . . . activity? I've not been to any parties since I've been here." He paused and then stammered, "Sorry -- I'm really bad at knowing what to expect." He held his cup up to his face.

"Calm down," John smiled. "There will be drinking and food and music. You just talk and hang out and that's really all." He paused and glanced over. "Victor asked about you."

"Did he?" Sherlock asked, genuinely surprised. Then he remembered he was probably supposed to be more excited. "What did he say?"

"He wondered where you had gone when you left early," John said.

"You don't think he . . . likes me, do you?" Sherlock asked. "Why would he? He doesn't even know me."

John tilted his head. "That's a good thing, right? You still like him, yeah?"

"But why would he like me?" Sherlock said. "If what you said is true -- if all these people like him -- why would he like me?"

"Well, he's gay, so already he's looking at you first. But beyond that I told you -- you're smart and clever and really handsome," John said.

"But he doesn't _know_ me," Sherlock said, not really listening to what John was saying. "How can you like someone you don't know?" Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he realised he could say the same thing about his crush on John. He didn't really know John, did he? But still he _felt_ something about John. "Anyway, what am I supposed to do next, do you think?"

"Well, you don't have to do anything right now. At the party you can go talk to him, hang out a bit," John said.

"What should I talk to him about?"

"Whatever you like-- he likes science as well. Biology, mostly, but I think it'll be okay. You could also ask him about plans after school and things like that."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not . . . normal. The things I like, normal people don't like," Sherlock said. He stared down at the table. He felt so stupid -- he didn't even know why he fancied John in the first place, why he went out to watch him and now why he'd allowed the whole stupid charade to go on. "Maybe this is a bad idea."

John got up and moved to sit next to him. "Sherlock, he's already interested. You're not a weirdo or anything." He looked over at him and smiled softly.

Sherlock liked John sitting close to him. "To be honest, his liking me makes me even more nervous," he said.

"Is it just because it's so new?" John asked.

"I guess it's just because . . . well, I usually let people down. They think one thing about me and then when they get to know me, I don't live up to it," Sherlock said.

John bit his lip and shook his head. "Sherlock," he said softly. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with but I don't want you putting yourself down like that, okay?"

Sherlock looked up slowly. "What do you want to do?" Sherlock asked.

_Kiss you._ John licked his lips lightly and shrugged. "Um, want to watch a movie?" he asked instead, getting up and moving back to where he was sitting to clear his head again. 

"Um," Sherlock said, standing up awkwardly. "I don't really have any movies but we could find something online . . . but I have a couple more questions about the party." He swallowed. "What should I wear?"

John stood up again. "Can I see what you have?"

Sherlock walked him over to his wardrobe. "I don't have any jeans, I'm afraid," he said.

"That's okay -- you look good in these fancy trousers," John grinned. He looked through the options and touched a silk shirt. It was dark purple. "Can I see this on you?"

"Um, yeah," Sherlock said. He pulled it out of the wardrobe and unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and slipped it on, buttoning it up. "Is it too dressy? Don't choose something that's going to make me stand out."

John blinked at him. The shirt fit him so perfectly, hugging his torso, the buttons slightly stressed. "That . . . that will definitely make you stand out. That shirt looks great, Sherlock."

"But I don't want to stand out," Sherlock said. "I want to seem normal. What are you going to wear?"

"Jeans and a nice jumper. This shirt, though -- he won't be able to take his eyes off of you." He looked up at Sherlock's eyes. "You don't have to wear it if you don't want to. 

"Well, you always look nice. Maybe I should try to dress more like you," Sherlock said. He slipped off the shirt and put his old one back on. "Okay, my other questions . . . am I supposed to bring something to drink and are there going to be drinking games because I don't want to play them." He sat down on his bed and waited for John's answer.

"You don't have to bring anything. The only people that bring something are people who know they are going to drink a whole lot. And you don't have to play games."

"And what about . . . you know. . ." 

John tilted his head for a second before realising what Sherlock meant. "No! I mean, people do that, yes, but you don't have to. I mean, no one is expecting that. It's . . . it's just you should only do whatever you want to do." He knew he was rambling and he couldn't even look at him. He couldn't imagine Sherlock sneaking off with Victor.

"But will it be like people on dates? Are you . . . are you going with someone, like a date?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh. No," John said. "Some people go together but that's if they're already dating. Is just a casual thing," he said.

"Okay," Sherlock said. "And where is it -- at someone's house?"

"Yeah, over at Anderson's place," John nodded.

"And there will be girls there as well?" Sherlock asked. "Or just people from your team?"

"There's going to be lots of people - girls and even guys from our classes." John paused for a second. "Will this be okay? We don't have to go," he added. He realised too late he'd included himself in that as well as if they could just hang out together all night instead.

"Don't you want to go? Am I ruining it for you? I'm sorry," Sherlock said. "You . . . you don't owe me anything. I'm sorry . . . I'm taking advantage of your kindness. You don't have to worry about me -- you should just go and enjoy yourself."

"No, I mean . . ." John got up and moved beside him again. "Sherlock, I was going to go either way. I just meant . . . with all these questions I feel like you might be uncomfortable and I just want you to know that you don't have to do anything you don't want to. And if you don't want to go I have no problem hanging out with you." _In fact, I would prefer it._

Sherlock quickly thought about every possible way that he could touch John -- accidentally bumping him, tapping him reassuringly, pushing him back onto the bed and crawling on top of him -- all of them were things he wanted to do but none of them seemed realistic. "It's all right, I'll be fine," Sherlock said. "Um, did you want to get dinner or something?"

"Just let me know, okay? I haven't told Victor anything, nothing really obvious, okay?" John said softly. "Dinner would be good. Can we order something here?"

"Yeah," Sherlock said. "There's pizza and Chinese nearby. Want one of them?" He still didn't get up from the bed yet.

John nodded. "Pizza sounds fantastic," he smiled.

"All right then," Sherlock said. He got up and showed John the menu and then placed the order. He moved over to the computer and said, "Did you want to find a movie or something?" He handed John his laptop. "I can hook it up to the telly so we don't have to squeeze in and watch it on that."

"Okay. What sort do you like?" A small voice in the back of John's head was berating him. He shouldn't be thinking these things about Sherlock -- he should have sent Victor over here tonight. He should have arranged a date for them for something -- he knew that's what Sherlock would have preferred but . . . well, Victor would be seeing Sherlock at the party. These things couldn't be rushed. John looked over at Sherlock and made a mental promise to try properly tomorrow.  

"No idea," Sherlock said. "I don't really watch much -- it's kind of hard for me to sit still so pick whatever you want and I'll give it a go, but just don't have your feelings hurt if I fidget some." He smiled over at John while he got some plates and two bottles of water.

John smiled and looked through the options he found online, picking the newest Bond movie. "These are usually pretty exciting," he said. "Hopefully you'll like it too. Um, how do you want to sit? I mean, where should I sit?"

"I don't care about eating on the bed," Sherlock said. "It's the easiest place to sit to see the television. I don't watch much but I sometimes put it on while I'm trying to go to sleep." He looked over at John. "Do you care? I mean, I can move it and we can sit on the floor or chairs or whatever."

John shook his head. "I was just making sure it was okay," he said. He fished out some money before sliding back against the headboard, on the inside. "Here you go, for the pizza," he said. 

Sherlock shook his head. "No, I'll get it -- consider it payment for the help you're giving me," he said. Just then there was a knock on the door and Sherlock went to get the pizza. He dropped the box on the bed and climbed up, dishing out pieces to each of them. "All right," he said. "You can start the film."

John started the film. "You don't have to give me anything in return. That's what friends do," he said. 

"Are we friends then?" Sherlock asked.

"Aren't we?" John asked, looking over at him. "I would like to be."

"Me too," Sherlock said. "Well . . . now that we're friends, I should tell you something."

John swallowed the bite he had and nodded. "What's up?"

"I'm already bored by this film," Sherlock said. He looked over and smiled.

John grinned as relief washed over him. "Well, watch it anyways," he said. 

Sherlock finished his piece of pizza and then put his plate on the night stand. He leaned back against the headboard and tried to concentrate on the film.

John had one more piece before closing the box and leaning back. "I used to want to be a spy," he said quietly. 

"Really?" Sherlock said. "That's interesting. But you've changed your mind?"

"Oh yeah," John smiled. "I doubt it's anything like this."

"You'd get lots of women, it appears," Sherlock said.

John shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. But doctors do pretty well too."

"Is that what you want then?"

"To be a doctor?" John asked, nodding at him. "Yeah."

"No, I mean, lots of women?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh. Not really," he said, not adding anything else. 

Sherlock turned back to the film for a while. Then he said, "Is this the kind of thing you normally do on a Friday night?" He turned and looked at John. "Sorry, I really am trying to pay attention to it, but ideas just keep popping into my head."

"It's okay," John grinned. "Yeah, only usually I am by myself watching a film. My friends like going out or just _doing_ something so it's rare that we spend a lot of time together off of the field. I suppose you should know that about Victor -- he doesn't really do this sort of thing. But since you find it boring that should be okay." 

"What kind of stuff does he do?"

"Parties, clubs, bars, dancing . . .things like that. He likes being social," John said. For a second he felt guilty for saying it but it wasn't a lie and as Sherlock's friend he should be completely honest. Sherlock didn't seem the type to be into things like that. 

"Oh," Sherlock said. "Well . . . I guess we'll see how I do tomorrow. Those aren't really my things." It went quiet for a few minutes and it felt strange. "I'm glad I met you at least . . . even if this other things doesn't work out," he added quietly.

John flushed lightly and smiled. "Yeah, me too. I mean, whatever happens, I am glad that we became friends."

Sherlock smiled a bit to himself and went back to the movie. Once it'd finished, he said, "What now or do you want to take off?"

"I don't have to get up early or anything tomorrow but I also don't want to make you sit through another film," he smiled, scooting down to get off of the bed. 

"Can I ask you one more thing?" Sherlock said quickly.

John hopped off of the bed ad turned to face him. "Anything," he said. 

Sherlock fiddled with an imaginary bit of thread on the bed. "Have you ever kissed a boy?" he asked quietly.

John's mouth fell open a bit and he felt his cheeks burn. "Yeah," he said quietly. 

"Victor?"

"A long time ago, at one of the parties. It was when I first came out. We never have again -- I don't like him like that. He doesn't like me -- you don't have to worry," John said quickly. 

"It's kind of weird, that," Sherlock said, kind of regretting asking. But at least it meant John liked guys as well. "Why are you trying to hook him up with people?"

"I don't want you to think he just hooks up with random people at parties. He wants a real relationship," John said. "He's been talking about it for a while." 

"About me?" Sherlock asked.

"Just in general. But since you like him I thought you guys could try it," John said.

"Right . . ." Sherlock didn't know what else to say. He didn't know what quite to do. He didn't like Victor, he liked John. But John wanted him to be with Victor. It was all confusing and awkward. "Anyway, maybe I should go to bed now. I mean, I don't mean to be rude, but I guess I'm just a bit anxious about tomorrow so maybe an early night's in order."

"Okay, yeah." John picked up his bag and pulled it onto his shoulder. "Do you want to go to the party together or just meet there?"

Sherlock stood up and followed John to the door. "Can we go together? I mean, if that won't seem too weird," he said.

John shook his head. "I'll come get you," he said. "Thanks for dinner. See you." He smiled before turning to leave, mentally hitting himself over and over for his stupid admission. He should have just said no and now he might have ruined everything.

Sherlock locked the door after John left and immediately turned off all the lights and got into bed. He lay there for a few minutes, just thinking about how John had been there and how he probably should have just confessed the whole thing and let John say thanks but no thanks and that would be that. He felt like he could smell John -- the bed smelled a bit like a soap or shampoo Sherlock didn't use, but then he realised that was probably stupid as well. He was being so stupid, which is something he rarely was. Why couldn't he have just accepted he liked how John looked and left it at that? Why did he have to go watch him practise and then get involved in this stupid game? He'd made things a million times worse.


	3. The Party

John slept uneasily and when he woke up he still felt very tired. He forced himself to go for a run and then took a long shower. He lay down and started some homework, waiting for the time to pass until he could go get Sherlock for the party. He hadn't texted him yet but he thought that might be for the best. He needed to stay focused.

He took a short nap and then made himself some tea, going to the closet to change. He thought about Sherlock and his purple shirt and he hoped Sherlock wore that tonight. He fussed his hair and made his way over to Sherlock's.

Sherlock had had too many dreams -- none of which he remembered but he woke up feeling a bit confused and agitated. He tried to do his normal morning routines but he had slept too late and everything just seemed . . . off. He decided to go out for a walk to clear his head. He thought about the things John had said last night and worried that he was causing John too many problems -- they hardly knew each other and Sherlock had been so demanding of John's time. He was glad John was willing to take him to the party, but he'd have to try hard not to dominate John's evening and make the focus all on him, especially since it wasn't just him that John was focused on, it was him and Victor. Maybe he could try to put Victor off and then John would give up on them as a couple and realise he and Sherlock belonged together? No, that was stupid. But this needed to end. Sherlock liked John too much to keep going with this. They could go to the party together and Sherlock could try talking to Victor and if it didn't work out, Sherlock would swear off rugby players and even skip chemistry until his feelings for John went away. He walked back to his place and started getting ready.

John went to Sherlock's door and knocked, sending Greg a text that they'd be on their way shortly.

Sherlock opened the door to John who looked extremely handsome. "Okay, hi, hello, I'm ready," he rambled. He grabbed his coat and they headed out.

_No purple shirt._ "You look nice," John said as they walked. 

"Well, I'm nervous," Sherlock said. "But thanks."

"Don't worry, okay?" John nudged his arm lightly. "It's all very relaxed and there's no pressure. Just have fun, okay?"

"I'll try," Sherlock said, wishing he could just grab John's hand and hold it. He had to stop thinking like that. They got to the party and immediately Sherlock hated it. There were too many people and it was too loud. He followed John in and they went to the kitchen to get a drink. Sherlock looked around, trying to find Victor.

Victor noticed them in the kitchen and made his way over. "Excellent! You came. Come look at this," he said, grabbing Sherlock's wrist and tugging him away. John smiled encouragingly to Sherlock even as he felt his stomach twist violently. He fought the urge to follow or even worse grab Sherlock and pull him back. Instead John chugged half his drink and went to find Greg, needing a distraction. 

Sherlock followed Victor. He tried to imagine it was John pulling him along, but then that seemed unfair (and impossible) so he tried to just relax and be as normal as possible.

John found Greg and joined his group, trying to get into the conversation but realising he was being really bad company. He couldn't stop thinking about what Sherlock was doing with Victor and he kept looking around for him, waiting for him to come back. Sherlock had said he didn't do this sort of thing, that he was nervous and uncomfortable. John had expected him to stick close -- that's what he'd been hoping for. And now he felt alone and the boy he liked was with someone else, probably having the time of his life and not even thinking about John anymore. John took a deep breath and realised he had done what he'd promised to do.

He finished his drink and made his way to the kitchen for another, an excuse to look around for Sherlock again. He was nowhere to be found. John's mind wandered to his own night with Victor -- a few drinks Victor had offered to show him what it was like, to convince him that it was practically the same as being with a girl. Actually, he'd been quite sweet. They had kissed, and Victor had tried for more, but John didn't want that. Not then and not with him. He glanced towards the stairs now that led up to the bedrooms and imagined Sherlock sitting beside Victor now, being comforted by how sweet Victor was being, possibly taking the 'more' that John never did. Victor wasn't a bad guy, but John hated him just then. He hated him for being able to do something John couldn't -- catch Sherlock's interest. 

John threw his plastic cup out and made for the door, no longer in the mood to stay at the party. He couldn't stop his brain from overthinking what was going on upstairs and he needed to get away. It was done now. Maybe if he fell asleep he could just let it all go. He headed for his place, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. 

The next morning Sherlock woke up with a bit of headache. It probably was a hangover -- he hadn't drunk that much but given that he rarely drank alcohol, it probably had a greater effect on him. He got up and got some water and then got back in bed. He reached for his phone. He'd been expecting to hear from John -- some kind of awkward 'well done' message that would just make Sherlock feel bad. But there was nothing, which also made him feel bad, so he decided to send John one himself.

_You still sleeping? SH_

John was just coming out of the bathroom when he saw his phone light up. He checked the message and sank down heavily. Friends. He needed to be a good friend. 

_Just woke up. How'd it go? -JW_

Sherlock frowned. He didn't want to talk about this anymore -- he had wanted last night to be the end of John's being his romantic adviser, but that seemed unlikely now. Surely Victor would tell John what had happened. This had all got so out of hand.

_Seems he and I are going on a date tonight. SH_

John stared at the message for a long time. A date. Victor had flirted and asked him out and everything had gone according to plan and it made John feel sick.

_Great. Everything worked out, then. Let me know if you need anything. -JW_

Sherlock frowned again.

_I'm not entirely sure I should go. SH_

_Why not? -JW_

How was Sherlock supposed to answer that? He looked at the words until they blurred in his head.

_I don't know. But I might have already said yes so I don't know what to do. SH_

_Do you need help getting ready? Tips, like before? -JW_

Well, it sounded like John thought the date was a good idea. Sherlock exhaled loudly. He really didn't know what to do. Should he tell John the truth? For sure, John didn't feel the same way Sherlock felt but if he knew that this had all been a lie, he probably would never want to even talk to Sherlock again. Still the truth seemed tempting, because Sherlock -- despite his starting all of this -- was not really one for romantic games. But if the truth came out, John would never sit on his bed again, never touch his arm, never smile at him . . . and for whatever reason (for he still didn't totally understand), Sherlock liked those things. If things were happening with Victor, at least he'd have a reason to get John over here. None of this made any sense. So he decided to tell John the truth. Or at least a little bit of the truth.

_I would like you to come over. SH_

_Okay. Let me get some lunch and I'll head over. -JW_

John made some toast and tea, leaning on the counter to eat it. He took deep breaths and tried to get his mind in a good place. He was helping his friends. This was not his time for love, and he was just going to have to let Sherlock go. His stomach turned unpleasantly and he left his lunch half finished. He changed his clothes, grabbed his phone and headed out to Sherlock's again. He took his time, but he couldn't avoid it forever. He knocked on the door, pushing his hands into his pockets. 

Sherlock got up and took a shower and tidied up a bit, even though there was no use now -- nothing he could do could change anything. When he heard the knock on the door, he opened and couldn't help but smile when he saw John. "Come in," he said, turning and letting John come in. "I don't want to talk about it -- we've got a couple hours, let's just watch a film or something so I don't get all worked up, okay?"

"I . . . okay," John agreed, even though he knew this was a bad idea. Sherlock didn't even like films so this was already odd. And then he was basically having a date with John before his date. John put his coat on the chair and climbed up on the bed like he had last time. "You pick this time."

"All right," Sherlock said. He sorted the computer and television and chose a documentary he'd seen a million times, hoping it'd relax him to spend time with something familiar. "I'm sorry if you think it's boring," he said, sitting down on the bed. He felt like he was being grumpy to John, and then he realised he was grumpy. Maybe they could just be quiet together and the anxiety would ease a bit.

"I'm sure it's fine," John said, leaning back. He wished he could just help Sherlock with what he needed and leave. He was worried he was going to be here when Sherlock got ready or when Victor came to get him. He felt a stab of panic -- he didn't want to see that. "I can't stay too long, okay? I have homework," he lied.

"Just -- just don't leave yet, okay?" Sherlock said, looking straight at the television. "You got me into this. I need your help. I'm sorry but . . . Look, I could help with your homework if you want, just don't go. . ."

"I don't mean right away . . ." John said. He looked down at his lap and picked a spot on his jeans.

Sherlock looked over at John. "I don't know what you're so nervous about . . ." he said, trying to lighten the mood. They watched the film for a bit. Then Sherlock said, "Why did you come speak to me that first day? You didn't have to . . . why did you?"

John shrugged. "I saw you watching us and figured I could help you," he said.

"So from the very beginning you thought I liked someone else," Sherlock said. "I mean, you thought I liked Victor?"

"Everyone is there for Victor," John said, looking over at him.

"I don't know why," Sherlock mumbled softly.

"Sure you do. Why were you there?" John asked softly, looking at the screen again. "Do you want to start getting ready now? What do you need?"

"Well, I've already showered. I guess I just need to get dressed and to figure out what I'm supposed to talk to him about. I exhausted all my sparkling conversation last night. You said he liked going out and partying. Do you think I'll be expected to drink tonight? I'm not a good drinker -- I make bad decisions . . ."

"I don't think so. He'll just take you to a nice dinner. He's easy going so I'm sure conversation won't be an issue." He silently wondered if Sherlock had made bad decisions last night.

Sherlock didn't respond. He didn't know what else to say. They finished the film and then he got up and made them each a cup of tea. He looked at his watch -- he had an hour before he had to leave. "I guess I'll get dressed now," he said. He grabbed some trousers, his sock and shoes and a t-shirt and headed to the bathroom. "Think of some things I could say while I get dressed."  
  
John checked the time. "Sherlock? I really should go . . ." he said, pacing towards the door and back.


	4. The Date

Sherlock turned and looked at John. "Look, maybe I don't know you well enough to say this, but why are you being like this?" he asked.

"Like what?" John asked, looking at the time on Sherlock's desk again. "I just have to go."

"Why are you being all . . . weird? I thought this was what you wanted?" Sherlock moved to the bathroom and started changing his clothes. He looked into the mirror and realised he was staring at the face of a coward.

"I'm not being weird," he called out, ignoring the rest of Sherlock's comment.

Sherlock came back and moved over to the wardrobe. "Fine," Sherlock said. "You're not being weird. Just stay here and be not weird with me until . . . please." He leaned in and pulled out his purple shirt, slipping into it and starting to button it up.

"I can't--" John cut off suddenly when he glanced over, swallowing hard when he saw what Sherlock was wearing. That was the shirt Sherlock should be wearing for John -- he's the one that had discovered it and mentioned how good it looked. "Don't," he said suddenly before he could stop himself. "Sherlock, don't go."

"What?" Sherlock asked. "Should I not wear this? What's wrong?" He looked over at John.

John swallowed hard and shook his head. "I just . . . I know that you like Victor but-but please don't go on this date. Don't go out with him."

"Why? What's happened? Did he say something about me?" Sherlock asked. His stomach was churning and he thought he might be sick. He sat down slowly on the bed.

"No. It's just . . . me. I don't want you to go," John said quietly. He was staring at the floor as he leaned against Sherlock's desk. Sherlock's worried tone was making this so much harder. Sherlock wanted Victor.  He wanted Victor to take him on this date and he was hurt that Victor might have cancelled. "I'm sorry. I'm being stupid. I want you to have fun. I'm sorry." He moved for the door -- he needed to leave before he was crushed by all the awkwardness he was spewing into the room.

"John," Sherlock called after him. "I don't want to go . . . I just . . . it's the only way I could get you to come spend time with me."

John paused with the door pulled open and turned to look at him. "What?"

"It was you," Sherlock said quietly.

John slowly shut the door, not taking his eyes from Sherlock. "No one ever comes for me," he mumbled stupidly.

"I did."

"But . . . why didn't you stop me?" John asked, moving closer again.

"You-it didn't even cross your mind and you were so keen for me to like him," Sherlock said. "I don't know how to do any of this and it got carried away and I couldn't make it stop . . ."

"Only because I thought you liked him. Everyone does," John said. He sighed and softly started laughing, covering his face. "God! You probably think I'm a maniac -- I was practically throwing you at him."

"It was confusing," Sherlock said. "I get confused by all this anyway and . . . I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how else to be able to spend time with you . . . that's all I wanted."

John stopped laughing and moved closer still. "I really am sorry, Sherlock. I never thought . . . well, I want to spend time with you, too. I like you a lot."

"I like you," Sherlock said. "I'm not sure why . . . I mean, I don't know why I liked you, you know, before we met, but I felt . . . something and I wanted to figure it out. That's why I was . . . stalking you, I guess." He smiled a little. 

John smiled. "No one ever comes for me," he said.

"I did, John," Sherlock said. "I did." He moved over on the bed and looked down at the space next to him, so John would come over.

John went over and sat beside him, putting his hands in his lap and glancing over. He felt a bit nervous all of a sudden, mixed with the elation of the fact that someone had come to the practice for him. That Sherlock had come for him.

"Will you go on a date with me tonight?" Sherlock said quietly, almost in a whisper.

John looked over at him. He nodded, biting his lip. "What will you tell Victor?" he asked.

"Well, see, the thing is . . . he _did_ ask me out. But I didn't totally say yes, I guess," Sherlock said. "But I had to have an excuse for you to come over again and if I couldn't explain things properly, I figured I'd just do something to put him off me permanently." He looked over. "I'm sorry there's been so many lies, John."

"Oh," John said, looking over properly. "You said no for me?" he asked softly, starting to smile now.

"Well, kind of," Sherlock said. "I mean, I never did like him -- I never even noticed him despite my staring at you each time I was there."

John smiled wider then. "I would really like to go on a date with you," he said.

"Good," Sherlock said. He looked over at John and smiled properly. "We're idiots, you know."

"Yeah, I know," he grinned.

"All right then, let's go," Sherlock said. He stood up and took John's hand. "Don't try to hook me up with anyone else, okay? No offense, but I don't think you're as good at matchmaking as you think you are."  
  
"I am too! It would have worked perfectly if you had actually liked him!" John laughed.

"I like you, John Watson," Sherlock said, stepping in close to him. "I don't know why but I do." He put his hands on John's shoulders and stood for a moment before pulling him close and just hugging him. It felt so good to touch him.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and breathed him in. "I really like you too," John murmured.

Sherlock pulled back and they left and started walking. "I was thinking we could go to this restaurant I know. It's an Italian place, is that okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," John nodded. "I love Italian food. What's your favourite?"

"I don't know, I guess, I just eat whatever he brings me," Sherlock said, smiling. "I don't care that much about food. Look -- we've got a lot of differences. Do you think that's a good or bad thing?"

John shrugged. "It depends, I think we'll be okay," he said. "Don't worry so much, okay?"

Sherlock stopped and turned to John. "Listen, I've been worried for two days about a crush I didn't even have. Of course, I'm going to worry -- I don't know anything about liking someone. So you might have to get used to my worrying. But I'll try to keep it in check, okay?"

"I just meant about our likes and dislikes -- it's fine," John said. "Everyone is different but the important things are good. I like you. You like me. We'll be good."

Sherlock smiled and squeezed John's arm. He led him to Angelo's, who greeted them at the door. "Hello Sherlock," Angelo said. He led them to a table by the window and leaned over and lit the candle. "And who's this?"  
  
Sherlock's face reddened a bit but he said, "It's my date, John." He reached over and squeezed John's hand.

John laced their fingers and smiled up at Angelo. "Hello," he said. He felt his own cheeks flush but he was so happy. Soon he'd be saying 'my boyfriend Sherlock' and it was a wonderful thought.

"Can we have two specials, please, Angelo?" Sherlock said. "If that's okay with you," he added to John.

John nodded. "Yeah, whatever works. And it's my treat since you got the pizza," he smiled.

"But I asked you out, doesn't that mean I should pay?" Sherlock asked. "This is all kind of confusing." He swallowed. "Fine, you pay and if you'll go out with me again, I'll pay. All right? Do you think you'll go out with me again unless I wreck this somehow?"

"I'm looking forward to going out with you again," John smiled. "I don't think you'll mess up that badly."

"Okay, have a good think . . . what's the worst thing I could do on this date? How could I ruin it? Tell me and I'll make sure not to do it," Sherlock said, smiling. "For instance, if you started making out with Angelo, that might put me off a bit so don't do that, okay?"

John laughed and covered his face again. "Okay fine." He lowered his hand and pretended to think. "I would be a bit weirded out if you ate your food like a dog," he grinned.

"Well, it's over then," Sherlock said. He laughed. He was starting to relax a little. "Not only do I eat like a dog, I also drool quite a bit."

John wrinkled his nose and sighed dramatically. "And it was going so well . . ."

Angelo brought the food over, smiling a little too widely. "I brought some bread as well," he said as if it were something quite special.

"Thanks, Angelo," Sherlock said. Once he was gone, Sherlock said quietly, "Sorry about that -- I think he's just happy to see me interacting with another human being. He's always teasing me about being on my own."

John grinned and shook his head. "Don't worry. I think it's sweet." John stayed eating before looking up again. "How come you're on your own a lot?"

"Because I don't really like people," Sherlock said, before realising it probably wasn't a great thing to say on a first day. "I mean . . . well, that's what I mean. Most people just annoy me so I just stay away from them. Which is why I was puzzled when I found myself wanting to be around you. I mean . . . well, it's true, I guess, even if it sounds stupid."

John smiled and looked down at his food, embarrassed as he forced his next words out. "I know you're nervous saying that but it makes me really happy because I'm not anything special and yet you came to the practice for me and I'll never forget that." The words came out quiet and rushed.

Sherlock felt warm but in a good way. "Why do you think I like you? I mean, do you have any ideas? Have you been performing some kind of voodoo on me, without my knowledge?" he asked.

John shook his head. "I really have no idea and I feel like any second now you're going to realise you've made a terrible mistake."

"I'll let you know if I do," Sherlock said. "But considering our first few days together were about you trying to push another guy on me and I still wanted to be around you, I'm not sure I'm going to change my mind. But if I do, I'll let you know as long as you promise to do the same."  
  
"I thought that's what you wanted," John said again as he nodded. "And I promise to do the same. Though, on a related note I thought you wanted someone else and I still hung around you so there," he smiled.

"I don't want anyone else, John," Sherlock said. "You've seen me in class -- I don't speak to anyone. I just like . . . you." He looked down at his food. "I'm glad you like me too."

Angelo came over to check on them and Sherlock asked for the bill, but Angelo assured him it was already taken care of. "What do you want to do now?" Sherlock asked John.

"I know you're going to think I'm boring but I want to watch a film again. Mostly to get on your bed. And cuddle." The words got quieter and quieter as shyness took over.

"All right," Sherlock said. "I might become a fan of movies if it means cuddling. I confess I thought about it the other times." After getting up and leaving, he grabbed John's hand and they started walking back to Sherlock's.

John smiled happily. "I thought about it as well," he said. "Let's go try it out." He squeezed Sherlock's hand as they walked.


	5. The Sleepover

Sherlock let them in and got two bottles of water. They moved over to the bed and sat down as they had before. Sherlock opened his laptop and passed it to John. "Choose literally whatever you want," he said. "I don't really intend to pay that much attention to it," he added, smiling cheekily.

John grinned. "I don't either so let's just put in the documentary again." He found it and started it up, staring at the screen and wondering what the appropriate amount of time was to wait to lean over and kiss Sherlock.

Sherlock slid down a little on the bed. "Can I put my arm around you?" He asked so quietly it was almost a whisper even though he wasn't sure why he wasn't using his regular voice.

John nodded and scooted closer to Sherlock. As Sherlock's arm wrapped around him John leaned over so his head was on Sherlock's shoulder. It was turned more towards him than the movie.

"Can I kiss you?" Sherlock asked, nudging John a little with his nose and then moving in for a quick, soft kiss before John had a chance to respond.

"Yes," John murmured, leaning back in to kiss him properly.

"I do like you, John," Sherlock said, in between kisses. He kept them light and they felt so good. Sherlock wanted more -- he never wanted to stop -- but he was so unsure about everything that had happened. He needed to take this slowly. So he resolved to enjoy what was happening now. Yesterday all he'd wanted to do was to touch John and have John touch him and now that's precisely what was happening.

John brought his hand up to Sherlock's jaw, slowly sliding it back into his hair. It was soft and his fingers carded through the curls easily. He could do this all night. It was perfect. 

Sherlock snuggled down a bit and turned his head towards the television. He tried to focus a bit, but then he said, "Would you like to sleep over?"

"Yeah," John murmured, shifting a bit to get a little more comfortable.

"Just to do this," Sherlock clarified. He didn't want either of them to feel any pressure. "This is nice," he added, almost as an explanation.

"Oh yeah," John said quickly. He felt his cheeks burn lightly. "Just this. I mean for now. Yes." He cleared his throat and stopped talking.

Sherlock squeezed his arm around John a little and stared at the television again. After a bit he said, "What did you mean when you said 'for now'?"

John flushed again and blinked at the screen. "Um. Just . . . later. If you wanted. Sorry."

"Does that mean you've already decided you want to?"

"I mean, I don't know. I'd like to -- I mean, I like you a lot and if you wanted to . . " He trailed off and hid his face in Sherlock's ribs. "Yeah. I would like to."

Sherlock rubbed his hand on John's back. "I want to as well," he said. "But not tonight . . . it changes things, you know, and we already had one big change today. Is that okay? Are you angry?"

"No! I'll never be angry about that." John smiled and curled close to him. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Sherlock looked over at John's face. "John, I am literally more comfortable with you than I've ever been with another person. I don't understand it really, but I like it so just shush and watch the film. I'm going to give you a quiz on it once it's over," he said, smiling and pulling John even closer.

"I'll fail and you'll dump me," John grinned.

"I'll just make you watch it again until you pass," Sherlock said. He turned his attention back to the television, but then he let his eyes close. He thought about the past few days and thought about this moment. Suddenly he felt a bit worried -- he was . . . happy. He felt happy. He hoped he wouldn't do something to ruin it. He opened his eyes and John was still there and they were still close and Sherlock still felt happy. He sighed a little and went back to the movie.

When it was over, Sherlock said, "Should we get in bed now? We can put something else in to watch, but maybe we should get in bed in case one or both of us falls asleep."

"We can lay down," John said. "I am getting sleepy," he admitted. He shifted and got up to go to the bathroom. When he got back, he paused beside the bed. "Do you mind if I take my jeans off?"  

"No," Sherlock said. He'd already changed into his pajamas and got out a pair for John. "You can put these on or not, whatever you want." He went to the bathroom and came back, climbing into the bed. He turned off the light and lay down. "Can we still . . . you know, cuddle and stuff or are you too sleepy?" he asked.

John slipped on Sherlock's pajama bottoms. They didn't fit very well, but they were better than nothing. "I'm not too tired. We can cuddle while we sleep."

"Look, I know you've been on more dates than me, so while I don't want to hear any specifics about those dates, if there's something else . . . if you want to do something, just tell me, okay?" Sherlock said. Even though he did feel a little anxious, he didn't want to keep seeming insecure -- there was no way he could explain to John how different he felt around him, how despite his nerves he still felt so comfortable.

"Sherlock, whatever has happened before . . . that wasn't us. This is about me and you and what we decide to do, okay?" John leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I like you and I like what we're doing."

"Good," Sherlock said, leaning in and kissing John a little harder. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and tangling their legs together. "I like all of this," he said, before kissing him again.

John hummed his agreement so he wouldn't have to pull away, kissing Sherlock and pressing close to him. He slid a hand around to his back, rubbing lightly. 

They kissed for a while, before settling back, still wrapped together and fell asleep. When Sherlock woke up, he reached over and tapped John. "Hey," he said softly. "You slept over."

John squirmed and opened his eyes, smiling when he saw Sherlock. "Hello," he mumbled before yawning.  

Sherlock smiled at John. "You slept over," he said again, smiling even wider.

John smiled wider and shifted onto his back, turning his head to keep facing Sherlock. "I did. Right in your bed," he added. 

"I'm glad," Sherlock said. "I'm glad everything is sorted now." He stretched a little. "Do you want to hang out today or do you already have plans?"

"I don't have any plans. Well, I was putting off some homework but I can do that later. We should go on another date," John smiled. 

"Has last night's date ended?" Sherlock said. He reached over and took a sip from a water bottle.

"I suppose not, but I meant we could go out. Maybe to an aquarium or something," he said. 

"All right," Sherlock said. "Let's get up. I can shower here and then we can stop at yours and go from there. Maybe we could get lunch and come back here to do homework."  
  
"Okay. I'd like a shower as well, but I'll do that back at mine." John sat up and stretched n yawning again.

"All right," Sherlock said, leaning over and giving John a kiss on his arm, which wasn't quite where he meant to do it but where it ended up. He got up and grabbed some clothes before heading into the shower.

John watched him walk into the bathroom before flopping down on the bed again. He didn't know what to think -- he'd never been so happy. As he was lying there he heard his phone go off. He went to get it from his bag, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was Greg. 

_Victor is upset--I guess that guy didn't wanna go out after all. -GL_

_Is it bad? -JW_

_No. You know he'll bounce back. -GL_

_Well, it's probably because he was never there for Victor. -JW_

There was a long pause before Greg answered back. 

_Are you with him now? -GL_

_Maybe. -JW_

_What? We have to hang out--text me when you're free! -GL_

_I have to go now. Don't tell Victor anything yet. -JW_

_Sure. Oh my God. -GL_

_Shut up. -JW_

John tossed the phone away and grinned, falling back on the bed again. 

Sherlock realised in the shower that he didn't feel very anxious and then he wondered if he should. But he definitely didn't. Which was strange. He didn't know John all that well -- he still hadn't discovered what 'magic' hold John had that had drawn Sherlock to him in the first place -- but still, he felt pretty comfortable with John which, in the world of Sherlock Holmes, was quite unusual. He stepped out and dried off, getting dressed and fiddling with his hair a bit. He returned to find John still lying on the bed. "Have you changed your mind?" he asked.

"No," John said, sitting up and smiling. "I was waiting for you. Greg texted . . .I was thinking one of these days we could do a double date?" he asked as he sat up. He put his own clothes on again as he waited to see what Sherlock thought of that. 

"With whom? Why?" Sherlock asked. His first instinct was to say no, he never wanted to do something like that first night after practice or that party. But that probably wasn't going to be an option with John.

"Just Greg and Molly," John said. "We don't have to -- it was just an idea."

"Maybe," Sherlock said. "Okay, sure, we can." He didn't really know either of them, but clearly Greg was a good friend to John, and Sherlock knew he'd have to be around him some time. "Are we still going to do something today?" he asked.

"Yes. Let's go to my place so I can shower as well and then we'll head out and see where the day takes us," he smiled. He got up and led the way out, holding Sherlock's hand again. 


	6. Getting To Know Each Other

They walked to John's. Sherlock looked around the room as he stepped in -- it was relatively plain and neat. There were textbooks on the desk and a television in the corner. The bed was made. Sherlock sat down on it. "Are you going to shower?" he asked.

"Yeah, I won't be very long. You can watch the telly or lay down or whatever," he said. He found fresh clothes and a towel before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Sherlock sat awkwardly on the bed. Then he stood up and walked over and looked at the things on John's desk, without touching anything. Nothing unusual there. He moved back and sat on the bed again, just waiting. 

John took a fast shower and came out dressed, fussing with his hair to try and dry it off. "Ready?" he asked, smiling at him. 

"Yeah," Sherlock said, standing up. He grabbed onto John's arm. "Can I kiss you before we go?" he asked quietly.

John nodded. "You can kiss me whenever you want," he murmured. 

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John's mouth softly. "I wish we were in bed still," he said softly before kissing him again.

John pressed into the kiss and held his waist tightly. "We could be," he murmured. 

"Tell me what you want to do," Sherlock said. "Whatever we do is good."

John leaned his forehead against Sherlock's chest. "We went through the trouble of showering," he said, smiling up at him. "Let's at least go out and get some food before we crawl back into bed."

"All right," Sherlock said smiling. "You pick today."

"There's a small sandwich shop nearby. I thought we could try that for something quick and good," he said. He grabbed his wallet and let the way out, taking Sherlock's hand again. 

John led them down and they went in and ordered. When they sat down, Sherlock said, "Let's get to know each other a bit more. Have you got any siblings?"

"I have an older sister," John nodded. "We don't talk very much. What about you?"

"Older brother," Sherlock said. "I'd be happy if he and I never spoke again. But we probably will." He took a drink. "So you've traded in being a spy for being a doctor . . . what else do I need to know about you?"

John shrugged, moving his chips around the plate. "I want to go into the army," he said, looking up again. 

"Odd," Sherlock said, but left it at that. "Anything else?"

"I don't think so. Tell me more about you," he said. 

"Well, I'm quite clever and I don't like people -- except you -- and I'm weird," Sherlock said. "That's about it."

"What is it about you that makes you think you are weird?" John asked.

"Well, I read weird books and watch weird shows and drink weird tea and I do all of it weirdly."

"Stop that," John laughed. "If that's true then I am boring. I read boring things and I watch boring things and I do everything in the most boring way."

"Hmm," Sherlock said. "Then I guess we should break up." He leaned over and kissed John quickly.

John shook his head. "You're stuck with boring old me," he smiled.

"I'm okay with that," Sherlock said. "I do like you, John -- even if you are boring, but I don't think you are. Even though I don't love rugby, I'll still come to see you."

"Oh, speaking of rugby," John said. "I'm going to talk to Victor later this week -- just to explain the mix up."

Sherlock's stomach felt funny. "Why? Why does he have to know?" he asked weakly.

"Well, he's going to see us together and he's going to wonder what's going on," he said. He reached out and touched Sherlock's hand. 

Sherlock hadn't thought about that. "Do you think it will be too strange? Did he really . . . like me or was it just because you told him I liked him?" 

"I think he was interested -- I mean, I didn't tell him to do or say anything to you, so that was all him. But it won't be strange. He'll get over it," John smiled. 

"But he and I had sex at the party," Sherlock said softly.

John flushed and actually pulled his hand back before he could stop it. "What?" John asked even though he didn't want to hear it again. 

"Hmm . . . you either don't know me well enough or haven't believed the things I've said," Sherlock said. "I don't like people, John, I told you. Why would I have sex with that guy? Come on."

"Wha--well don't say that! You sounded so serious!" John said. He huffed out a hard breath and took Sherlock's hand again. 

"Still . . . you have been with him. That's kind of strange. Do you think we should fight him?" Sherlock asked, wondering why he was being quite so silly.

John chuckled. "I am sure the disappointment of losing both of us will suffice," he said. 

"Or we could make out in front of him instead?" Sherlock offered, laughing aloud now.

"Well now you're just being mean," John laughed. 

"Finish your food," Sherlock said, smiling. "I want to leave and do something else." He pushed his plate a little to the side.

John took another bite. "What do you have in mind?" he asked, taking one more.

"Well, we could go to the aquarium," Sherlock said. "Or go some place we could lie down."

"Hmm. We can lie down in the park?"

"I was hoping we could also kiss while we were lying down? I don't want to get arrested, John," Sherlock said.

"We won't get arrested for kissing! And I know a good place," John said. 

"But what if I need to take my clothes off?" Sherlock said. He started laughing again, but it was a giggle which made him laugh even more.

"Control yourself!" John laughed. 

"I can't," Sherlock said. "I used to be sensible before I met you."

John laughed louder. "I'll still date you," he said. 

"Pathetic -- are you that desperate?" Sherlock said. He finally stood up. "Come on, I need to go lie down."

"Okay, okay!" John smiled, getting up and following him.   
  
Sherlock let John lead him to the park. "Why here?" he asked. "Are you some kind of exhibitionist?"

John grinned. "No, goof. Look," he said as he pointed. He led the way into a small cluster of trees. "See? Hidden."

Sherlock stopped for a minute. "Have you come here with someone else?" he asked.

John shook his head. "I've come alone before. Study, hide out, things like that. Just because I've been on a few dates . . . I mean, I've never liked anyone enough to bring them here. Or do something like this."

Sherlock felt his cheeks warm. "So this place . . . has meaning to you? And you brought me, even after I was being stupid?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "I suppose I come here enough for it to have meaning. And really, I couldn't think of a better person to share it with. Lie down and see," he smiled. He led the way, pointing up to the opening in the trees. "It's really nice at night."

"Thanks, John," Sherlock said, giving him a quick kiss and then sitting down on the ground. "It's nice -- no people. I like that you can still hear sounds though." He looked around and then looked at John sitting next to him.

"Yeah, being out without all the bad stuff," he smiled.

Sherlock laid down and looked up at the sky. "Is there a lot of bad stuff in your world, John?" he asked quietly.

John crossed his ankles and put his hands on his belly. "My parents used to fight because my sister was partying and drinking all the time. Then she came out and they accused her of just saying that for attention. She took off and now they get calls all the time about her being in an out of rehab." He hadn't meant to say it all like that, but it spilled out.

Sherlock reached over and grabbed John's hand, giving it a squeeze. "It's good that none of that is here. Just me and you," he said softly.

John smiled softly. "Just me and you." He took a big breath and let it out slowly. "Do you have anything like that?"

"Not really, I guess," Sherlock said. "When bad things happen, I usually just delete them. I remember the lessons, but forget the details." He swallowed. "There are obviously reasons I don't like people in general." He closed his eyes to the sky. "But none of that matters, because I have you now."

John wondered what had happened before but if Sherlock didn't want to talk about it he wouldn't force him. They were silent for a little while. "This can be our place now," he said after a bit.

Sherlock smiled. "If you want," he said. "I only want to come here with you." He rolled over onto his side and used his fingertip to trace lines on John's face. "I like you, John," he said softly, just smiling at him.

John turned his head and smiled at Sherlock. "I like you too, Sherlock. Didn't you promise me kisses?" He smiled.

"Yes, but only because you promised we wouldn't get arrested," Sherlock said. He leaned down and gave John a few soft kisses on the mouth and then rested his head on John's shoulder, sliding his body just a little closer.

John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's shoulders and held him close. "That was nice," he smiled. "This is a nice date."

"I'm glad you think so. I've not been on many dates . . . mostly this just feels like, I don't know, 'being' with you and that's so much easier than I thought it'd be," Sherlock said. He rubbed his hand lightly on John's chest and thought about how he'd happily lie here for the rest of his life.

"Well, that's all a date really is. Only with you it's not awkward and unsure," John said.

"I am sure, John," Sherlock said. He still didn't quite understand it -- which is the whole reason he started going to the rugby practices. But somehow understanding it all didn't seem as important now, which was unusual but true. He lay there beside John, just feeling calm and happy.

"Me too," John said quietly. He rubbed Sherlock's back. "Will you keep coming to practices?"

"If you want me to, I will," Sherlock said. "At the moment, I feel like I'd do whatever you want." He kissed his cheek. "It might not stay like that, so you should probably enjoy it while it lasts."

"I want you to do what you want to do as well, but I really like the idea. It's sweet," he smiled.

"I don't think anyone has ever used the word sweet to describe me, John," Sherlock said. He flipped his coat a bit over John's legs and slid his hand down to John's belt. "And just to prove I'm not sweet, I was wondering . . . do you want to sleep over at mine again?"

"I was hoping you'd ask me that," John said. He licked his lips and shifted lightly.

"I wish we had our clothes off now," Sherlock said, letting his fingers slip under John's waistband. He moved his mouth to kiss John's neck and suck the skin softly.

"That would get us arrested for sure," John murmured. His hand pinned between Sherlock's and his own side moved out enough to lay flat on Sherlock's groin. His face flushed as he palmed lightly.

Sherlock kissed John's mouth hard. "You said you had homework," he said when he pulled back. "We should go to yours, get your stuff and then go to mine and work." He kissed him one more time. "I'm trying to be sensible, but what I really want to do is take you home and take off our clothes," he whispered.

"If you keep saying things like that there's no way I am doing homework," John breathed. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Give me one minute, okay?" He didn't feel like walking through the park given the state Sherlock was putting him in.

Sherlock rolled a bit away, lying flat on his back and looking up at the sky again. "I love being with you," he kind of muttered, still amazed by it all.

When John felt comfortable enough to get up and leave the park, he stood and helped Sherlock up, leading the way back to his place. He packed up his books, took Sherlock's hand and headed over to his. He tried very hard to concentrate on the homework he had but really he didn't know how he actually finished it. He couldn't get his mind too far from the park and Sherlock's wandering hands. When he finally finished and he packed everything up again, John climbed over Sherlock and smiled down at him. "All done," he said, even though Sherlock knew that. He leaned down and kissed his mouth.  

"I've still got a hundred pages left to read," Sherlock said, rolling away from him and facing the other way.

John climbed on him again slipping under Sherlock's arms so that he had to hold his book over John's head. "You can keep reading," he murmured, kissing along his jaw and down his neck. 

"Oh my god, John," Sherlock said, dropping his book on the floor and kissing his mouth. "I've barely been able to concentrate this whole time while I was waiting. I was just about ready to go have a wank in the bathroom." His face flushed a little and he said, "I probably shouldn't have said that."

John grinned and kissed his mouth hard again, rolling his hips so Sherlock could feel him and know that he was in the same desperate state. 

They lay and kissed for a few minutes and then Sherlock looked at the clock. "Let's get ready for bed," he said. "We can order some pizza or something, but then we can spend the whole evening in bed."

"Are you just trying to sneak off to the bathroom without me?" he teased, sitting up and climbing off of him. 

"Shush, pretend I never said that," Sherlock said. He pulled himself away and stood up, starting to change into his pajamas. "Did you bring some or do you want a pair of mine?"

"I didn't bring any," John admitted. "I don't usually wear them so I didn't think about it."

"Well, put on the ones from last night for now, I can't have you running around in your pants or I'll . . . well, I don't know what I'll do. Besides they look cute because they're too long," Sherlock said. He grabbed the pizza menu and sat back down on the bed.

John smiled and pulled the bottoms on. "I'm locking the bathroom on you," he grinned. He kissed Sherlock's temple quickly and ruffled his hair. "Only teasing!"

"Pick your food," Sherlock said, handing him the menu. "Don't be mean."

John added breadsticks to the order, sitting on the bed beside Sherlock while he ordered and pressing kisses on his shoulder.

Sherlock set the phone on the bed. "We've got about twenty minutes," he said. "What do you want to do?" He slid down and pressed his whole body hard against John's.

John hummed softly and gazed at him. "I don't want to be interrupted and I don't want to rush," he said. Despite these words John couldn't help leaning in and kissing Sherlock again.  

Sherlock returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around John's back. He inhaled everything about John -- his taste, his smell, the feel of him. Then there was a knock at the door. Sherlock pulled away and said, "I'll get it." He got the pizza and brought some plates and bottles of water back to the bed. 

John's stomach growled lightly, and he cursed it for being obvious. He wanted to kiss more. He opened the box and took a piece, sitting very close to Sherlock. "I suppose we need to eat," he said. 

"I've already eaten today," Sherlock said. "But I'll have a breadstick." He took a few bites and then some water.

"We got a whole pizza just for me?"

"Don't hassle me about eating, John," Sherlock said. "Or I won't . . . touch your thing later." He smiled and took a big bite of the breadstick.

John snorted a laugh and covered his mouth. "Wow. That was so sexy," he chuckled. "I'm just saying we didn't have to order a whole pizza."

"We can save it and I might eat some later," Sherlock said. He lay down a little bit. "I'll just watch you eat. It's kind of cute -- especially with that sauce on your nose though I have no idea how it ended up there."

John reached his hand up and wiped it away quickly. He finished his piece and closed the box. "I'm going to brush my teeth before I lay down as well," he said, climbing over Sherlock to get off of the bed.

Sherlock put the pizza box in the fridge while John was in the bathroom and then he took his turn. Then he double checked the lock on the door and got back into bed. "Okay," he said. "Wow me."

"How?"

"Like this," Sherlock said, grabbing John's arm and pulling him close. "Lie down properly now and let's kiss."

"Oh yes, excellent idea," he smiled, leaning in and kissing Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock rolled a bit so he was lying on top of John. He slid his arms under John, pushing against his lower back. "I'm eager," he mumbled into between kisses.

"Good, I am as well," he said, rolling his hips up to grind against Sherlock's. His own hands moved into his shirt to touch his skin. 

"Can I touch you?" Sherlock said, looking down at John's face.

"Yeah," John nodded, slipping his hands out. "Should have asked first . . . sorry," he mumbled.

"I don't mean that, you goof," Sherlock said, pulling on John's hand to push it under his shirt. "I mean . . ." he glanced down John's body.

"Oh right, yes," John nodded, flushing lightly. "Sorry." He pulled Sherlock's shirt off completely, touching his chest and belly now as well.

Sherlock wiggled out of his shirt and then slid to John's side. He pulled John's shirt off as well and pressed his body against him, stroking his hand up and down John's back. Their skin pressed together and made Sherlock feel warm. Then he pulled back just a bit and slid his hand around John's front, palming him through the thin material of his pajama bottoms. He moved his head to kiss and suck on John's neck, just leaving his hand against John, without moving it anymore.

John moaned softly, pressing into Sherlock's hand. His own hands moved down to Sherlock's hips, pulling him closer.

Sherlock slipped his hand inside John's pajama bottoms and wrapped his fingers around John's cock. He held it, without moving, as he continued to kiss his neck. "This okay?" he said softly.

John nodded, swallowing hard. It was difficult to talk without moaning. He slid his own hand to the elastic, trying to get into Sherlock's pants. "Feels good," he said.

Sherlock put a little more space between their bodies so John could reach him and he could start moving his hand on John. "God," he exhaled. "I . . ." but he didn't know what else to say so he pushed his mouth against John's neck and breathed in and out slowly.

John nodded, turning his face towards Sherlock. He moved his hand under the fabric to stroke Sherlock properly.

Sherlock lifted his mouth to John's and kissed him hungrily as he continued to stroke. His hips rocked a little. "God, I'm . . . you're kind of driving me crazy . . . it's been a while since . . ." He trailed off and moved back to kissing John's mouth.

John smiled into the kiss. He was panting softly, looking into Sherlock's eyes. "I'm close already," he admitted.

"Do you want to stop?" Sherlock asked, but he didn't stop.

"No -- god no," John moaned, kissing Sherlock's mouth again.

"A bit faster," Sherlock huffed as he closed his eyes and just pressed into John's mouth, not really kissing. He could feel heat rising everywhere. "John . . ." he moaned. "I'm going to . . ." was all he could get out before his hips were jerking and he spilled over John's hand.

John moaned loudly and kissed Sherlock sloppily as he came, pushing into Sherlock's hand and holding him tightly.

"John, I. . ." Sherlock couldn't really make words so he just pressed his mouth against John's instead.

John kissed back as he panted through his nose, still clinging to Sherlock's shoulder. They lay there quietly for a little while.

"That was pretty . . . sexy," Sherlock finally said, pulling back and looking at John's still flushed face. He gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. "I'm glad we didn't do that in the park even though I wanted to. We'd have been arrested for sure."

John chuckled softly and nodded. "Sexy and arrest worthy," he smiled.

Sherlock leaned over and grabbed his t-shirt, throwing it to John. "Here," he said. He took a long sip of water and then glanced at the clock. "What time's your first class tomorrow?"

"Noon," John said. "You?"

"Ten," Sherlock said. "I'll set the alarm for eight, yeah? We don't have to go to sleep right now but I'll just sort it now." He set it and then put it on the table. He turned off the light and turned to face John. "We can walk together to your place and I'll head to class. I don't mind skiving some classes, but this one's important." He put his hand on John's hip and looked over and smiled at him.

"Okay," John smiled. "I can use the extra time to double check my homework. I was pretty distracted before." He covered Sherlock's hand and held it between them.

"Don't let me ruin things for you, John," Sherlock said. "I . . . only want this to be good. I'm sure one day because of me we'll get into trouble, but for now, let's just make it all good."

"What? I won't get into trouble," John said. "And you're not ruining it for me, Sherlock. I'm happy with you."

"John, if you stay with me, we'll get in trouble, trust me," Sherlock said. "But it'll be good trouble. For now, though, let's make everything right." He snuggled against him. "I'm a bit sleepy, which is ridiculous because it's not even midnight yet."

"Good trouble, huh? I can live with that," John smiled. "Go to sleep . . . I'm not going anywhere. I'm a bit sleepy myself."

"But what about if I need more kissing?" Sherlock said. "Should I go ahead and do it or should I wake you?"

John smiled. "Feel free, but I'm sure I'll wake up. You're so sweet," he said. He rubbed Sherlock's back softly.

"Stop saying that," Sherlock said. "You're the sweet one anyway." He tried to close his eyes to get sleepy.

"But it's true, you are," he said, tracing his fingers over Sherlock's back.

"That feels nice," Sherlock said. He tried to curl up a little and started to feel tired. "If you wake up and need to kiss me, you can," he said drowsily.


	7. Their Week

Once Sherlock fell asleep, he managed to sleep the whole night, which was unusual, especially two nights in a row. The alarm woke him. He rolled over and petted John's hair a bit. "Morning, John Watson," he said softly.

John stretched and yawned loudly before patting Sherlock's . . .arm? He didn't know exactly. "Morning," he murmured.

Sherlock smiled. "That's quite a romantic gesture," he said. He moved John's hand away from him and leaned over and kissed him properly.

John hummed as he kissed back. "Just need a minute," he smiled softly.

"For what?" Sherlock asked.

"To wake up," John said. He stretched again, sitting up a bit. He leaned down and kissed Sherlock properly, petting his hair. "M'not a morning person," he smiled.

"That's a shame," Sherlock said. "I like kissing in the morning."

"Only need a minute," John countered, kissing Sherlock again.

Sherlock kissed John's neck and squeezed his arms around him. "I could get used to this every morning," Sherlock said. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish I could kiss you every morning."

John shifted and looked down at Sherlock, meeting his gaze. "I think we can do that," he said.

"I had a good time last night," Sherlock said, his face feeling warm again at the thought.

"Me too," John smiled. "We can do it again, maybe after class."

"Won't you have homework? Remember, only good stuff," Sherlock said.

"I promise I'll finish it first," John said. "I'll be good," he grinned.

"All right," Sherlock said. "Let's make a move." He gave John one more kiss and then slowly rolled out of bed. "I'll be quick in the shower," he said and nipped off to get ready. He came back before John was even dressed. "Come on, then," he said. "Do you want to come over whenever you're ready or do you want to pick a time?"

"I'll text you before I do," John said. "I'll finish any work I have before I come over so there's no trouble." He smiled and gathered his things before they left for his place.

As they walked, Sherlock said, "You know I can help with homework -- I am clever. I don't mean that you can never do work around me. I mean, I know last night I said I was going crazy and I was, but I guess I'm saying, if we're going to stay together, we'll have to work those things out. I don't know what I'm saying, I guess." He barely knew John, but for some reason, he was thinking far ahead in their relationship, and he wasn't quite sure why that seemed so urgent to do.

"I suppose that's true," John said. "I can't let your lustful teasing control my life." He grinned and squeezed Sherlock's hand as they got to his place.

Sherlock turned and gave John a quick kiss. "Try not to think about me all day," he said. "Just because I'll be thinking of you doesn't mean you have to do the same." He smiled and headed off to class.

"I can't make any promises," John called after him. He went in to properly get ready for class.

Sherlock walked off to class and, although he found himself spending quite a bit of time thinking about John -- about the night before and about all the nights of the future -- he was also able to take what he needed from the class and left feeling pretty good. Later that afternoon, John texted just as he'd promised and they did some homework before finishing last night's pizza. They got into bed early and did what they had done the night before.

On Tuesday morning, Sherlock woke up before John. He turned over in bed and looked at him. He knew why he liked John now: he was interesting and kind and smart. And although Sherlock had known he was good looking from the first moment he saw him, he now knew that John's handsome face, his soft kisses and his sexy touches could make Sherlock melt. This was all so surprising but it was also very, very good.

Sherlock lowered his hand slowly to John's face and drew a line from his forehead to his nose and then his chin. Then he leaned in and kissed him. "Wake up, John Watson," he whispered.

John woke up and smiled. The time John was spending with Sherlock was the best of his life. There was nothing different or extraordinary - just kissing, touching, teasing - but he was clever and handsome and fun. John really couldn't get enough of him.

That afternoon at practice, John pulled Victor aside and explained what had happened. He seemed a bit upset -- he definitely took it out on John on the field -- but after that, everything seemed normal again. They had a match tomorrow and John wanted Sherlock to come, so he hoped things would be okay.

The next morning when they woke up, Sherlock said, "I don't have class today but you do, which means you have to be responsible and get up and leave." He curled around John and held onto him tightly.

"Maybe I don't want to be responsible," John murmured, curling close and pressing his face into Sherlock's chest.

"Not an option," Sherlock said. "I won't come to your match then." He still didn't untangle himself from John.

"You will too," John said, pressing even closer. "Don't make me go."

"Don't make me the responsible one," Sherlock said. He rolled flat on the bed. "Besides, I've got to do something while you're in class." He let his hand rest on John and drew little circles over his arm.

"Do what? Do me and keep me from class," he smiled. He stretched and yawned, sitting up.

"I need to call my brother -- he's texted a few times and I've been ignoring him, but it appears that's no longer an option," Sherlock said. "I'll do you later," he added, pinching John softly. "I like smart boyfriends so go to class!"

"I am smart!" John laughed. He climbed over Sherlock and disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later he was out and ready to go.

Sherlock slipped back in bed when he heard John come out and pretended he was masturbating under the covers. "Come back to bed," he said, laughing at himself.

"Don't do that when I already don't want to go!" John laughed.

"I'm teasing," Sherlock said. He got up and put his dressing gown on. "I'll be at the field around three, right? And after that, maybe we could go out to dinner?" he said, putting the kettle on.

"Perfect," John nodded. "See you then." He leaned up and kissed his mouth before leaving for class. He tried his best to concentrate but his mind kept slipping to Sherlock. He couldn't get enough of him.

Sherlock took his tea to his desk and checked his email. He checked every website he could think of and then he picked up his phone.   
  
"What do you want?" he said when Mycroft answered.

"Rude," Mycroft said. "I only wanted to see how your experiment was going."  
  
"What experiment?" Sherlock asked.

"With the rugby player," Mycroft said.

"How did --" Sherlock started to ask but then he stopped. He knew how Mycroft knew-- because that's what Sherlock and Mycroft did: they knew. They knew everything and if they didn't know (like Sherlock hadn't known why he found John so intriguing), they found out. So there was no use playing dumb.

"The experiment is over," Sherlock said.

"And a relationship is beginning?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said.

"Be careful," Mycroft said. "I understand these things -- I was your age once as well. I understand the curiosity. But I know you'll be careful, won't you?"

"Of course," Sherlock said. He didn't want to ask what Mycroft meant.. He wasn't Mycroft; he didn't want to be like Mycroft.

"If you need anything, you'll call?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, though he couldn't imagine what Mycroft could offer in this department.

They said goodbye and Sherlock sat and thought a bit about the exchange. He and his brother had always been different that other people, but they were not the same as each other. He'd always known that, but now that he had John in his life, it was even clearer. He finished his tea and did some work before getting up to get ready to go see John. 

John headed straight to the match, getting his things ready by the seats so that he could see when Sherlock arrived. He heard giggling and saw the group of girls gathering for Victor. Or maybe him -- apparently people did that. He smiled wider as he turned away, looking for Sherlock again.

Sherlock walked over to the field and spotted John. He made a wave in his direction, but wasn't sure if he should go over and interrupt him.

John grinned and waved him over.

Sherlock walked over towards John and then he saw Victor running over.

"So you prefer Watson?" Victor asked.

Sherlock wasn't sure what to say. So he went with the truth. "Yes," he mumbled. "I do."

"Come on Vic, we went over this," John said. He rubbed Sherlock's back and pulled him closer.

"I don't get it," Victor said. "But to each his own, I suppose." He ran off.

"Why again did you think he'd be a good match for me?" Sherlock said, smiling at John cheekily.

"Shut up," John said. "He's good looking. But I guess I'm better looking," he grinned.

"He's not good looking," Sherlock said. "No one is good looking but you." He squeezed his arm a bit. "All right, I'm going to go sit down. Go be good looking on the field." He moved over to the benches and sat down.

John grinned and ran off onto the field. Victor was rough again, but John took it in stride because he kept waving at Sherlock and making stupid faces at him.

Sherlock thought about when he first realised he was interested in John. He thought about the first few times he'd come to practice and all that had happened since then. He smiled. When it was over, he waited for John where he'd met him that day they went for pizza.

John ran over to Sherlock, panting softly and wiping his brow. "I'll just wash up real quick and we can go get dinner," he smiled.

Sherlock moved over and sat on a bench to wait. Victor came out and walked by. "I didn't really fancy you," he said as he passed. Sherlock ignored him. When he saw John come out, he stood up and walked over, grabbing his hand. "Where do you want to eat? Just something little, I'm saving up my appetite because I want to take you on a proper date this weekend," he said. 

"Wanna go to the cafe? They have all kinds of size meals," he said. "Where are you taking me this weekend?"

"Some place fancy -- you'll have to dress up properly," Sherlock said. "It'll be our one week anniversary." His face blushed a bit.

John grinned and kissed his cheek. "I can't wait," he said. He felt light and his stomach was flipping wildly. He liked the sound of that a lot. 

They headed to the cafe and Sherlock let John get him tea and toast. They sat down and Sherlock picked one of John's chips off his plate and ate it. "You looked rather intimidating out there on the field," Sherlock said. "Are you secretly a rough bastard?"

John grinned. "The other team probably thinks so," he said.

"What about in bed?" Sherlock asked softly.

"I--" John started answering before he fully realized what Sherlock had asked. He flushed, cleared his throat loudly and shook his head. "I'm not . . . I'm not rough," he said, matching Sherlock's soft tone.

"But you're a bastard in bed?"

"No! I'm just normal," he said.

"Normal as in . . . boring?"

"I don't know. Why are you asking? Maybe you're boring," he countered, mumbling and playing with his food. He felt embarrassed.

"I don't think I am," Sherlock said. "Would you like to find out?"

John looked up and licked his lips. He nodded, holding Sherlock's gaze.

"I've not been bored with anything yet," Sherlock said. "I have a feeling we'll be all right."

"I think we will too," John said finally. "What brought this topic on?"

"I was thinking about our anniversary," Sherlock said. "Celebrating . . ."

"Oh," John said. "I-I like that idea." He nodded. "But I don't want to have plan because it'll make me nervous. I just want it to happen. But I do want it."

Sherlock reached over and grabbed John's hand. "Nothing that's happened so far has really had a plan," he said. "And it's all been good. Whatever happens, whenever . . . we'll be okay." He squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry I brought it up -- don't be cross."

"No! I'm not cross! I just want it to be good," he smiled.

"Will you still sleep at mine tonight? I mean . . . just like we have been," Sherlock asked. He felt a bit embarrassed now. He wished he could tell John why he'd been thinking about sex: it'd been a long time since he'd fancied someone so much and he was just stupidly eager.

John nodded. "I like sleeping with you," he admitted. "Even though we're cramped," he smiled. "I like being close like that with you."

"I like it, too, John," Sherlock said. Because he really did. "I wish we lived in the same place." Sherlock's face went a bit red -- even though it was true, he knew it was a bit silly after so little time. He wondered if one day they would. 

"We could one day. I would really like that," John smiled. He squeezed Sherlock's hand and continued eating with the other.

Sherlock watched John eat and then they headed back to his place. They each did homework for a little while before getting into bed. They put on a movie that neither of them intended to watch and soon their bodies were together and they were kissing and touching like they had before. It was so good that suddenly Sherlock worried that having sex would change it, would ruin it somehow, and he regretted bringing it up. But then John's hand distracted him and he got lost in the good feelings.

John climbed over Sherlock and tried something a little different, taking both of them in his hand and stroking them together. It was hardly different than what they've been doing and yet it felt a hundred times better -- touching this way was much more intense and rolling his hips over Sherlock this way made it closer to what they would be doing soon. He leaned down and kissed Sherlock hard.

"John," Sherlock exhaled. "That's . . . good." It was hardly the best adjective but the only one that he could think off. He moved his hips against John's and closed his eyes. He pressed his mouth against John's neck and sucked while his hand moved up and down John's back.

John moaned his agreement, tossing his head back a bit. "Sherlock, this is . . . I like this," he panted. He was leaking -- Sherlock as well -- and John smeared everything to move his hand even faster.

"Don't stop," Sherlock moaned. "It's . . ." he didn't say anymore, just leaned up and kissed John's mouth hard and then suddenly he was coming against John's hand, panting and sweating.

"Fuck," John moaned, following after Sherlock -- the sight of him losing control always pushed John over the edge. He kept moving his hand over the both of them until they were done and he lay over Sherlock to catch his breath. 

"That felt so good, John," Sherlock said, rolling them over and reaching for his t-shirt to clean up. "Better than good but I don't know the right word." He lay back down and looked over at John's handsome face.

John chuckled and sighed heavily as he caught his breath. "Sometimes you make me forget my own name," he grinned, turning to look at Sherlock. 

"I . . . I just like you so much, John," Sherlock said, rolling against him and pushing his face into John's shoulder. All of a sudden, he thought he might cry but he didn't.

John's stomach flipped nervously and he wondered if Sherlock had considered saying the words John had been thinking for a couple days now. Words he knew were crazy given their short amount of time together. "I like you a lot as well," he murmured. 

"Let's go to sleep now," Sherlock said. "You always wear me out." He smiled softly and kissed his lips before snuggling down.

John nodded, closing his eyes and rubbing Sherlock's back until he fell asleep and his hand stilled against him. 

The rest of the week was much of the same. Sherlock didn't bring up sex again, but they spent each night in each other's arms.


	8. The Anniversary Date

Friday morning Sherlock told John he'd pick him up at seven. He suggested that John get a bit dressed up and spent all of his class thinking about tonight.

John spent his classes daydreaming about the sort of place they were going to, and even more than that imagining what they would do afterwards. Sherlock hadn't brought it up again but John couldn't forget it since Sherlock had brought it up. Sex. They were going to have sex tonight.

Back at his place he showered and shaved, brushed his teeth and put on actual dress pants with a nice shirt and jumper. He fussed his hair a bit and waited for Sherlock.  He quietly hoped for the purple shirt.

Sherlock got dressed, putting on the purple shirt John had liked. He tidied up his room and sat down to think about how he felt. He was anxious but it was a good kind of anxious. Whatever happened tonight, he couldn't deny that the last week had been the best of his life. He checked the clock, grabbed his coat and scarf and went to pick up John.

John pulled open his door and grinned when  he saw Sherlock. "Hello," he said. He felt nervous like it was a proper first date, like they hadn't been doing all of the touching and sleeping together.

"You look handsome," Sherlock said, leaning in and giving John a quick kiss. "Ready?"

"Yes," John smiled. "You look handsome as well."

Sherlock grabbed his hand, and they walked into town to a small, but fancy restaurant. Once they were sat down, Sherlock looked over and smiled. "I know the people who own this, they're nice," he said. "Order whatever you want -- I'm sure it's all good."

"It looks that way -- what are you getting?" John asked as he looked over the menu.

"This," Sherlock said, pointing to the menu. "Should we get some wine as well?"

John looked quickly but missed it. "Yeah, wine sounds good. It'll be relaxing," he smiled.

The server came over and Sherlock ordered his food and some wine. He looked over at John. "Get anything -- it's a special night," he said smiling.

John ordered his food and reached across the table to hold Sherlock's hand. "We're different, I think." He flushed lightly and playing with his fingers as he laced them together. John didn't have a ton of experience but nothing had every felt like this. Of course he could just be lost in infatuation but he didn't focus on that.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked. "I mean, I know some of our differences, but what are you talking about?"

"Than other couples, I think. I don't know. It feels different with you. Better."

"Good, I'm glad," Sherlock said, squeezing John's hand. "I don't want to be like anyone else."

John smiled, relieved that Sherlock didn't think he was crazy. He let go of Sherlock's hand when the food arrived, pulling his plate close and taking a sip from his wine. Everything looked so good.

Sherlock took a few bites of food and then set his fork down. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip. "If you're going to be a doctor, John, what do you think I'll be?" he asked.

John tilted his head and thought for a moment. "A sport writer," he grinned. "No, I'm kidding. Um . . . a chemist."

"What? A freelance chemist?" Sherlock asked. "Is there much call for that?"

"No, goof! I mean a chemist working in a lab for some major company," John laughed.

"Hmm, not sure . . . sounds a bit boring," Sherlock said.

"Hmm. Well, what were you thinking?"

"Either master criminal," Sherlock said. "Or doctor's wife."

John grinned and felt his cheeks flush. "Doctor's wife . . . hmm. Not a criminal-- wrong side of the law."

"All right, we'll figure something out," Sherlock said. He glanced down at John's plate. "Food okay?"

"Yes, it's excellent," John smiled and continued eating. "Have you thought about it before? What you'd like to do, I mean."

"I won't lie, John," Sherlock said. "I don't think I'm as ambitious as you are. I've mainly thought of what I _don't_ want to do, but I've not come up with what I do want yet. Sorry." He looked down at his drink and then took another sip.

"Don't apologise, it doesn't matter. I just wondered," he said. "Just making conversation. Let's see . . .if you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go?"

"Some place without many people -- wait, are you coming along? If so, then . . . Niagara Falls," Sherlock said. "Have you been there?"

"I haven't, but I saw a movie a while ago where they put you in a big poncho and you stand almost right under them," he smiled.

"I went once when I was young," Sherlock said. "You can stand and look in and feel the mist on your face." His cheeks went red and he took a sip of wine. "I don't know why I thought about that, but I guess that's where I'd want to take you."

John smiled wider. The wine was making him feel very relaxed and comfortable. "That sounds very nice," he said.

"And after we got our faces all wet, where would you take me?" Sherlock asked, taking a few more bites of his food.

"To a lovely beach in the sunshine so we can dry off," he smiled. "But we'll get you a lot of sunscreen," he added.

Sherlock smiled and then reached over. "Is this date going to feel like a let down now, since we're not doing anything special?"

"What? No way! I'm already having a great time, Sherlock. Honest. Do you feel let down?"

"I don't feel let down," Sherlock said, smiling. "I'm having a good time too." He pushed his plate a bit to the side. "I thought we could go on a walk before we go back. What do you think?"  
  
"Yeah, that sounds perfect. I'm so full, I think that will help," John smiled.

"Do you want dessert or anything? Whatever you want," Sherlock said.

"No, I'm going to explode," John smiled, patting his stomach.

"All right," Sherlock said. He paid the bill and then helped John on with his coat. They walked out. "Let's head down here -- I know a back way to get home." They walked quietly for a little while.

John swung their hands lightly, looking up at the sky as they walked quietly. "Are you thinking about when we get home?" he asked quietly.

"No, but I'm guessing you were," Sherlock said. "Do you want to say what you were thinking?"

"I'm . . .excited. That's all," John said, squeezing his hand.

"You said no planning," Sherlock said, tapping John's arm. "You're not too drunk, are you?"

"I'm not drunk. And we aren't planning. Shh," he smiled.

"I'm a little drunk, but not a lot," Sherlock said. "Here, turn down here." They went down a small alley and Sherlock turned suddenly and pushed John up against the wall. He kissed him hard and pressed against him.

John gasped, stumbled a bit as he hit the wall and moaned in surprise. He clutched at Sherlock, finally kissing him back and pressing against him.

Sherlock stepped back and smiled. "See? No plan," he said, pulling his hand to get back to walking. "Let's go home."

"Sometimes you're a terrible tease," John huffed, his cheeks still flushed from the kiss -- the intensity and suddenness of it.

"See?" Sherlock said. "I told you I'm not boring. Did you like it?" He was practically pulling John down the road.

"Yes I did," John said, hurrying to keep up with Sherlock.

Sherlock quickly unlocked his door, pulling John in and pushing him against the shut door. He kissed him hard again, like in the alley, letting his arms wrap around John's back and then down to hold his hips.

John brought his hands up to push Sherlock's coat off and immediately start on his shirt buttons. He kissed back hungrily, moaning softly.

As John worked on his buttons, Sherlock moved his mouth to John's neck, sucking hard on the skin. His hands moved to John's belt which he undid and then he started opening his trousers, but before pushing them all the way down, he started to pull John towards the bed.

John followed, pushing clothes off of Sherlock's shoulders and trying to get to his trousers before they hit the bed. He groaned in frustration, pulling away to concentrate on getting the zip.

Sherlock reached down to help John with his trousers and then took off John's shirt. He pulled them properly onto the bed and took off the rest of John's clothes before removing his own. He rolled on top of John, just kissing him hard and moving his hands all over John's body.

John moaned softly and tugged Sherlock closer. "Do you have supplies?" he mumbled.

"In the drawer," Sherlock moaned. He reached over and set them on the bed. He kissed John's mouth and then moved down his body, kissing, until he got to his hardening cock, which he sucked into his mouth.

John gasped softly, reaching down to touch his hair. "Sherlock, fuck . . ." he moaned.

Sherlock hoped that was a good sign. He reached over and grabbed one of John's hands as he continued to kiss and suck John's cock, tasting the sex already own him. He shifted slightly to press himself against one of John's legs.

"I want to do it to you," John murmured.

Sherlock turned himself on the bed so they were top to tail. He licked John's tip and then said, "Just a little, okay? There's so much more I want to do."

John nodded and licked a long stripe up Sherlock's shaft before sucking him into his mouth, bobbing slowly to adjust.

"Fuck, John," Sherlock said pulling his mouth away to catch his breath. It felt so good, so warm and wet, and made Sherlock's want grow. He took a deep breath and returned to John's cock, sucking it, as his fingers gently moved between John's legs.

John tried to follow Sherlock's pace and movement, humming around him while his hand pet Sherlock's thigh.

Sherlock had no idea how long they'd been doing this but it felt too good and he wasn't ready for things to end just yet. He pulled off and then slowly moved himself away from John's mouth. He turned round and crawled up and over John again, lying down on his. He kissed his mouth hard and said, "That felt good."

"I feel like my skin is on fire," John said. "In a good way." He buried his hands into Sherlock's hair.

"Can I use my fingers now?" Sherlock whispered before moving down to suck John's neck again.

John nodded, looking down and then back up at his eyes again. He counted each breath to keep control of himself. He'd never wanted anything so much and been so nervous about getting it before.

Sherlock kissed down John's belly and licked at his cock again. He reached for the lube, slicked his hand and rubbed between John's legs. He let a fingertip brush John's hole before he used his other hand to tip John's cock into his mouth. As he sucked, he pressed a finger inside John slowly.

A small sound escaped his throat as Sherlock pushed in, biting his lip. The distraction of his mouth was just enough, but he could still feel the odd sensation. He wanted more of it. 

Sherlock began moving his finger, eventually slipping in a second one to open John. He looked up. "We can stop if you want," he said quietly. "All of this has been so good."

"Don't -- don't stop," John said, squirming lightly at the burning. "Will you come up? I want to kiss you."

Sherlock stretched his body upwards to kiss John's mouth. "I love you," he whispered before he'd really thought about it and then he wasn't sure what to do. So he slid his fingers out, reached for a condom and lined himself up. "Okay?" he said. He was overwhelmed with feelings and wanted this so much.

John's eyes widened and he grabbed the back of Sherlock's head, holding him close. "I love you, too," he whispered. He nodded, putting both hands down on the bed beside him for a moment. He clutched the sheet and nodded. "Okay."

Sherlock slowly pushed in. He leaned his arms over John's shoulders and dropped down to kiss him as he slowly started to roll his hips. It felt so good -- tight and hot and he felt like he couldn't be close enough.

John pried his hands off of the bed and wrapped them around Sherlock, clutching at his back instead. He moaned and writhed and kissed Sherlock, his body adjusting and moving with Sherlock's. 

"Does it feel good? Do you like it?" Sherlock huffed -- his breath was changing and his whole body was hot.

John nodded. "You . .. I like that it's you," he said. He felt every inch of Sherlock moving into his body. He brought a hand between them to stroke himself.

"Make yourself come," Sherlock said. "I'm so close . . ." He kept thrusting, moving a little faster. He dropped his head to the side of John's and panted heavily.

John turned his head and buried into Sherlock's hair, panting as he stroked faster. He slid his thumb over the tip and focused on Sherlock's movements filling him. He came before he could say he was, moaning loudly for Sherlock as his breath hitched with the intensity.

Sherlock felt John's body change and he pushed even harder until he came as well, panting loudly and calling John's name. He squeezed his arm around him, holding on tightly.

John brought both hands into Sherlock's hair and buried into his neck, breathing heavily to catch his breath.

After a few moments, Sherlock pulled out slowly and rolled to the side, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He lay down next to John, fiddling with the blanket, trying to pull it over them. "Was that okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," John murmured, helping him with the blanket and pulling it over the both of them. "It was perfect. Did you like it?"

"I very much did," Sherlock said. He squeezed himself against John. "Will you stay the night?"

"Of course," he said.

Sherlock closed his eyes. "I don't want you to leave," he said softly.

"I won't," John assured him. "You're stuck with me -- you're my wife, remember?" he smiled. He was so happy he felt a bit loopy through his sleepiness.

"Okay," Sherlock said. "I hope you'll treat me right." He curled against John. "When we wake up will you still want to be my husband?"

"Yeah," John grinned, feeling warmth spread through his whole body. He felt elated and happy. "I'll get a ring and make it proper," he added sleepily.

"Should I start just being your boyfriend?" Sherlock said.

"If you want to be sensible," he nodded, taking another deep breath as he got comfortable.

"When we wake up will you still want to be my boyfriend?" Sherlock said.

"Mmhm," John murmured, shooting his eyes open even though they immediately started drooping again.

"Stop talking now," Sherlock said. "I want to go sleep and wake up beside my boyfriend." He let his eyes close properly now.

John made a half-hearted attempt at shoving Sherlock before he finally dozed off, snoring softly beside him.

In the morning, Sherlock rolled over and looked at John, brushing the hair from his face. "Wake up, John," he said softly. "I've got something to tell you."

John hummed softly and shifted, blinking his eyes open and focusing on Sherlock. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you still wanting to be my boyfriend?" Sherlock said softly.

"Yeah," John nodded, touching his cheek lightly.

"Remember last night, what I said . . . you know, when we were . . . you know," Sherlock said.

"That you love me?" John asked, feeling a bit worried now. John had said it as well. Was Sherlock going to take it back?

"I didn't just say it because of what we were doing," Sherlock said. "By now you must know that I wouldn't . . . I wouldn't say something I didn't mean. Not after what happened at the beginning -- I will always be honest with you." He swallowed and touched John's arm lightly. "I'm not used to all this but I meant it."

John sighed in relief. "I meant it too."

Sherlock curled close to John. He was happy. That's what had drawn him to John in the first place -- he was the only one who could make Sherlock happy.


End file.
